Miscellaneous Poems


My Hidden Voice

Asphalt Prison

I'm driving the highway and think I am free,
Exploring the country to find who I'll be,
But lately I find I am trapped on this road,
A prison of asphalt; I'm set to explode.

Then there in the distance I see a small lane,
I try to veer off but I'm held by this chain,
“Just travel the highway and stay in the lines,
And watch where you're going and read all the signs.”

“Just do as the others and what you are told,
Don't try to be different; don't try to be bold,
Just travel the highway and see where it leads,
The ones who will follow are ones who succeed.”

I try to be noble and try to be brave,
I try to see reason and try to behave,
But always I look past the pavement that kills,
And look to the sides of the road, to the hills.

For there I see freedom, adventure to gain,
And then as I focus, I see that small lane,
I crank on the wheel as I step on the gas,
And head for that laneway before it will pass.

The laneway is rough but I'm feeling alive,
I'm filled with elation as onward I drive,
The highway's behind me, the hills are ahead,
I'm set for adventure and feeling no dread.

I'm driving the laneway and know I am free,
Exploring the country to see who I'll be,
No longer to drive on that highway to hell,
“So long asphalt prison, I bid you farewell.“

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

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