Roads and tires
faces without traces
hundreds of emotions
I'm passing in a blur
Sitting on the corner seat
of a racing private bus
I'm flying towards my dream
inhaling stirring dust
Stealing silent glances
at the pretty girl next seat
I'm browsing through my chances
it's hard to swim upstream
Stops come and go I guess
people join and leave
but knowing I'm alone
makes me feel free of me
It's a path I must tread alone
without hundred and eighty turns
Yes, I'm flying straight for the sun
knowing I might crash and burn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice imagery, good mixture continue