Under bridges in the rain we talk
about how to go back in time, while
the semis and packed full mini vans
surf by with tails of water and dirt.
A couple in one of the passing cars
nods their heads in time with an old
song she just happened to catch on the
radio before it was too late.
The overpass above them is full of hate,
and I can’t help but hearing all the horns
and violent screaming from the disrespected.
This time zone’s not elected.
I get rejected when I ask the question.
You tell me not to mention all the
problems in the pictures that you
shared. I couldn’t anyway I get too
scared, but I’m prepared to do it differently.
Just gotta watch the promises you swear to me.
This is insanity.

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