Riding Down the Freeway Twenty Miles from Nowhere

Whose car this is I think I know:
The driver’s, with me fast in tow.
He pays no heed as I complain,
And ever on and on we go.

As we continue down the lane
Stuck in my car seat I remain,
Between my siblings I am set,
This darkest hour of my pain.

I stretch the seat’s restraints, and yet
No blessed freedom can I get.
I beg and moan and scream and weep.
This ride will never end, I bet.

Go forth, my curse: Bleepity-bleep!
This and all car rides you can keep!
There’s miles to go before I sleep.
Yes, miles to go—I’ll never sleep!

by Julian D. Woodruff

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Julian D. Woodruff writes from western NY, mainly for children, often about them, and every so often about their parents. He is interested in how, or if, youngsters grow into adulthood. His presence on social media may be tended to with the growth of fame and fortune.