driving instructions…

like
a child
staring out
the back window
of
their parent’s car
we pine
for
what was
as if
it were
really
as wonderful
as we
imagine
we forget
the arguments
and
incidences
that
ended with
our
early depature
declaring
that
we’ll
never return
to
this god forsaken place
or
talk to
this
persona of satan
ever again
yet
when we are
isolated
from reality
we embellish
the few morsels
of
joy
we had
creating
a fictionalized historical event
probably
as truthful as
most history
where the good guys
always win
and
the damsel in distress
is
a kung fu master
seems
we’re always
looking
for
the rationale
for
events
how do they
fit
into
the plan
and
purpose
of
life
well
this might surprise you
but
there is no
real purpose
nothing’s been
ordained
your empty minutes
and
hours
are controlled
by
no god
or
saint
it’s you
staring out the back window
instead
of
looking at
where
you’re driving to