I like to say
That my truck
Is a reflection
Of my survival

It is rough and unkempt
As my life has been since
That Distant September Day

It is dented and dinged
Reflecting the after shock
Of each personal collision

But it still churns miles
Takes me where I need to go
And reminds me of where
I have been

So I can never forget
My arrogance
And disbelief

That spawned Tears of frustration
For each interview no I received
When it just didn't matter
What I knew

It runs despite my mistakes
It runs inspite of my inattention
It runs persistantly

It has no quit button
And no fashion statement
All it does is run and run and run......

08/25/2005

Posted on 08/25/2005
Copyright © 2024 James Zealy