Shotgun

The driver’s a maniac.
It’s just as simple as that.
First of all, he drives way too fast.
There’s no time to enjoy the view.
He doesn’t even slow down around curves.
Hell, he speeds up even,
making the turns terrifying.
How can he even see what’s up ahead?
Of course the road itself doesn’t help.
Nothing but ups and downs.
What I’d give for a flat, calm piece of road
to help end the nausea.
Maybe when we get there,
I’ll look back and think all of this was fun.
Maybe then.

.

Fine poem, deserving comment. What part of you is the driver and what part the driven? I like it.

Thank you Ierrellus, very much.