Drive

By Andrew R. Duckworth

The fuel tank is nearly empty
And I can’t find ways to replenish
But my travels are not finished.
To put it simply,
I am stuck in park
With little will to make a mark.
I walked through an open door
With hallways of plenty in store,
But I tripped and found the floor
Unable to get back to my feet.
I couldn’t grasp rhythm to dance
Or find footing to keep a stance
When given chance after chance,
I couldn’t keep up with the beat.