end of the road

down there,
where I died,
minivans and SUVs;
up here,
pickup trucks,
and old muscle cars;

all the same sad,
lonely story:
not much in this life,
but struggle
without glory;

most of it
not even worth

always on our way,
always traveling,
but never arriving;

hardly any point
to putting pen
to paper,
except sometimes
it makes me feel alive.

April 18, 2010.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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