Hand's griped tight to the wheel, eye's glued to the road
Many, many miles from home
Windshield wipers back and fourth, faster, faster
Rain so hard he can barely see, still so many mile's to go
Headlight's glare, horn's beeping still not there
Her voice no longer on the phone
He now travel's the night alone
Faster he goes into the dark
Radio blasting, window open trying to stay awake
Two more blocks before he can sleep
Two more blocks, to hear her voice
But now only in his sleep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem