Life is just an unending run.

Through the stations of pause,

wait and do, up until, 'done'.

 

A drive here, a ride there,

Always bumper to bumper traffic.

Sometimes you just gotta walk,

Days could be static or erratic.

 

Amidst all this uncertainty,

Routine helps me stay sane.

Commute duration may vary,

At least I stick to my lane.

 

Times when I'm fickle with it,

It's an open invite to trouble.

Zipping encourages aggression,

Or I could be headed into a rubble.

 

Even when I make it back,

I still can't seem to call it a day.

In the mesh of parked vehicles,

Some parked in my spot, or in the way.

 

A child dreaming of adulthood,

Surely isn't tricked hence by REM.

How would the leaves branch out,

After a pest attack to the stem?

 

This isn't at all the life I wanted,

I imagined an earthly place called home.

It needs to be real sans superhero ,

fairy godmother or gnome.

 

I just long for my designated spot,

For my vehicle and I.

Come and go as I like or just,

be still and watch life pass by.