For every hour that moves too slow
there's a night that just passes.
I can't see the stars out here.
Twinkle twinkle headlights,
untwisted candy cane stripes of
red and white down the freeway.
Peppermint traffic, stop and go.
For every white dash
there's a mile of yellow line.
And every city that swallows the sky
and digests the sea of cars
is one less eternity
keeping us hungry for destination.
for every place our heart settles as we go travel through life there is yet another town to find, and the yellow line...nice touch...for the dashes...the places where we make changes there are miles of road that keep us in the same direction, same path in life, whether we like it or not...
often when we are unhappy, time passes too slowly...but when we are happy it rushes past us like cop car (flashing lights) chasing someone...
we chase dreams but get stalled...and end up in slow traffic...
as each eternity finally passes..we still find ourselves searching for destination
i really like the ending...and i see this poem as a pretty well done metaphor...
i sometimes wish the traffic would move faster, there are not enough spots to pass.
I almost agree with Paradox. This feels like it could be much much longer. There's an idea and story building within this poem and you should let it free. For now, as it is, it just feels like a random idea you got while in traffic, now try to expand it.