Willed Less Destiny
A humming sound rushed from underneath the floor. Often followed by a thud. Ever so often the the hollowed rectangle would shake the two inhabitants side to side. Yet ever so often font to back. It was stable.The long day of the one sitting in the back was over. He looking for a way home. The other for money. Each entwined by capitalism. Forcing each to break their backs on a willed less Destiny.
Saturday, April 21, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: car,midnight,tired,work