ROADSIDE
by Dawn Garden

The engine coughs,
sputters and fades,
Reving is futile.
Power eludes you.
The spark has died
and you're going nowhere.

Seized up,
Worn out,
Done in.
 

Fellow travelers speed on ahead.
And you can do nothing,
But watch them pass you by,
Disappearing at a point on the horizon.
You wonder where they go,
And what it's like to be there.
 

While you are left with nothing...
Nothing but a memory of their boastful roars,
Echoing in your silence,
Amplified with envy.
The dust left in their wake fogs your mind
And steals your breath.
 

And the sun glinting on the roads blinds you to anything more than a stone's throw away.
Instinct pulls you after them.
Maybe you should do more to make it happen?
You get out and push,
Careless voices sapping your will.
"Try harder; your're not trying hard enough!"
"Can't you do any better?, it's easy!"
Doubt teases.

You push,
You force,
You will.

But the tar hold you like glue,
Clinging to your limbs,
Weighing you down,
With pain that crowds in on you.
Pushed down,
Laid flat,
Shadowed by shame.
 

Yet time...
And time again you try.
Rev up,
Catch up,
For mere moments.
Always to fall behind again.
Creaking and grinding more than ever,
Metal against metal,
Aching
To break free,
Push forward,
Out of the mire,
Gears clicking into place
Not spinning redundantly.
Journeying again,
Never running out of fuel.
But time passes.
You are gratetful for moments of peace,
When you forget why you're there.
Your time taken by insignificances,
Pleasures so small,
Shared with those who have the patience to wait out their journeys a while.
But guilt overcomes.
You hold them back,
So you usher them on.
And sit out your penance behind the glass windows of your prison.
Waiting
Waiting
For the day you turn the key and come to life.