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Lost MAG
We take the corners much too fast,
And even though we’re lost
We know we’ll find our way back.
Distant flashers burn red,
But we keep our speed
All while changing lanes.
Welcoming green exit signs
Signal a false sense of home.
But we know we must drive past.
I keep my foot steady,
And I’ll try my hardest never to look back
(After all, this car only moves forward).
The wind blows across my car,
Whispering things I cannot hear.
Maybe when I reach the place
I don’t know how to find
Maybe then all the whispers and
Shadows made by the passing street lamps
Will make sense.
Maybe then the sky will smile and
I’ll stop the car, finally reaching
The place I can’t find
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