Under Construction

During the ride, I stay inside
the painted lines of my mind.
I pick up the speed I need
to discover what I seek.
I travel several miles
to find what makes me smile.
At times, I lose all control
of the car that drives my soul.
I find ways to drive straight
into a storm of uncertain fate.
Throughout my ride, I pass signs
that reminds me of travel times.
I know this road can be rough;
I know that I must be tough.
At times, I open windows
to teach others what I know.
Anyone can tell you that
the journey gives what you lack.
This road of dysfunction
is under construction.
Although its destruction,
I still manage to function.
I have all the time and drive
to keep dying dreams alive.

Born to Ride

I fell like I was born to ride –
to never hide. I have this feeling
that removes all ceilings.
The sky is the limit and this ride
is not finished. I was born to ride-
to travel with pride – to be outside.
Although bumpy at times,
the rocky road will decompose.
This ride can’t be loathed.
I explore and try to see
more. I plea to be free.
I can’t complain about this;
I endure pain others dismiss.
I was born to ride on any bad day;
I was born to praise the road’s groove.
This worn-down road isn’t for play,
so I ride into the night with nothing
to prove and nothing to lose.