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An Installment of Poetry by The Art Guy

A fact, there are infinite roads to Paradise;

Reliability assured, she rests easy with a dangly dreamcatcher instead of a pair of dice.

She heard this part’s the best, although infamous, the Great Journey;

For nothing she stops, all that matters is her engine stays running.

She’s questioned her 4-cylinder’s ability;

She’s told, ‘silly girl your tests ran inconclusive! Though it’s probably fine, be careful turning key.’

She pulls over every few miles, not for lack of drive or directions;

Rather, constant flat tires, road blocks, adjust, setbacks, recurrent rejections.

She knows her limits, needs no more tickets, her cruise control stays engaged;

Someone tell her to keep her receipts, so when she hears it’s her fault maybe she won’t be enraged.

For all, this journey contains struggle, but when will she know she’s in trouble;

When seeking answers, validation, or comfort, solutions turn questions then doubles.

She’ll wonder if it’s a typical Journey experience;

To feel the effort to move forward won’t outweigh the subsequent weariness.

When will the mileage be worth the cost;

Instead of being on track unable to move, she’d simply rather be lost.

Maybe she’ll trade in her Kia, on a bike she’ll pedal her pilgrimage;

Or maybe she’ll attempt Paradise early, and drive her perfectly fine, nonfunctioning car right over the side of a bridge.