The Road

I looked out past my hood to see
the road stretched out in front of me.
But now the trip I planned with care
was gone, vanished into thin air.
I lost my map, lost my way.
The road itself had gone away.
So now I wander through my days,
tires flat, windshield glazed.
Wandering ‘til who knows when.
Perhaps I’ll find the road again.

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