There’s a road
that’s stretched ahead.
and I stand here waiting instead.
Feet planted firmly,
thoughts running surely,
yet I feel curly,
unsturdy,
in the recesses of my mind.
I try to find,
a way to unwind,
to define,
to not drink this wine.
So I get in the car,
driving away from the bar.
Running from feelings, urges that
mar.
Driving far,
as if i’m trying to catch that star.
Lead me,
don’t leave me be.
You see,
I need you.
I beg, and plea.
If you leave I’ll go on another horrible
spree.
One that will surely make you disagree.
Be my czar,
take the key and lock me afar.
Disregard me,
leave me in the fields raving like a banshee.
I was supposed to leave,
be on I-5 by 5.
but I stand here,
filled with fear,
won’t you help me dear?

-N.R.W. (Day 4 or is it 5? of poems)