white lines melded with the yellow,
blurring my vision,
hills wedded to the valley's,
tankers and trucks roar by unheard,
racing the wind, losing the race,
nothing but miles, cool wind in my face.
faint vibrations from the tires,
subtle grip upon the road,
eyes burning from the miles,
subtle grip upon the road,
standing in a crowded aisle,
floor still shifting beneath my feet,
my mind still gathering up the miles,
as I fuel my engine and my feet.
tired, so tired, the road is but a blur,
still I must travel, not so fast as before,
yet still I must travel, until I am at your door.
until I can rest at your door. You can join Unsolved Mysteries and post your own mysteries or
interesting stories for the world to read and respond to Click hereScroll all the way down to read replies.Show all stories by Author:  5858 ( Click here )
Halloween is Right around the corner.. .
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"A tank of gas, a dozen deep-knee bends a few gulps of something to cut the crud and away again." Great writing, my friend. Write on... 
