The screeching of tires
As the car comes in hot
The curve is now covered
In black rubber rot
The speed and the damage
These things must be managed
To shave a few seconds
That waste anyway
A Poetic Dive into the Creative Unconscious
The screeching of tires
As the car comes in hot
The curve is now covered
In black rubber rot
The speed and the damage
These things must be managed
To shave a few seconds
That waste anyway