I stand solitary,
The edge of White at my feet,
The asphalt stretches,
As far as my eye can see.
My eyes blink ,
The unfocusing yellow beams flash,
They keep on passing,
As another takes their place.
To me they are cars,
Wheels without a face,
But then as wind splashes my face,
I realise those are lives that pass me by.
Each beam I see,
I wonder now,
What problems lie before their wheels,
Are they tears or are they smiles.
Then I realise ,
Maybe they are neither,
Maybe they are drowsy, tired and in pain,
Getting from one day to the next in one breezy ride.
Then I look at the asphalt,
This stretch of black that bears all,
Suddenly my pasts lie over the stretch,
I gaze on and on and on.