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My lights are stabbing deep Into the darkness of the night. The centerline is slithering Like a snake about to strike. The gears are really tugging, I can feel the pistons moan; And what is gained when steel is pained? Well, at least I'm not alone! The pressures and frustrations That a man so often feels, Are sent into the distance With the spinning of the wheels. High above the city lights And winding up the grade, I leave behind a troubled mind As tensions slowly fade. I guide it onto gravel Just a moment from the top; I venture to a viewpoint And I idle to a stop. First the music, then the motor, Then the lights are all shut down; I stare out o'er the dashboard As I listen to the sound Of my left-front tire deflating, And the thought comes to my mind; You can try to run from troubles, But they're not that far behind. It's not so bad, when down or sad, To escape from all your cares; But bring your sense of humor for What hits you unawares!
Wes Stephenson

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