The Tire
The tire ran on the roads,
at a speed of the flash it ran,
the tire was rogue,
it was black and SLAM,
it violently crashed in to the car;
breaking glass and metal and parts,
as if it had control on how far,
and it knew where to start.
Where did it come from?
A lorry?
Why was it like a bomb?
I’m sorry?
How did it know where to go?
It had a mind, a brain?
I guess it went with it’s flow?
I guess it had a lot of pain?
I guess really...
Nobody knows!
Copyright © Jacob Preston-Bridges | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment