a GRAM OF TRUTH . . . is worth a pound of insight!

The drive can be awfully long
when the windows are rolled up
and the radio can’t drown out the sound.

I shrink to the size of a fly,
listening to them argue about where to
turn and how fast to drive.

The abuse that spews from one’s
mouth to the other can cause even a fly
to shudder.

Doesn’t matter.

And they wonder why I cry and tell
them how much i can’t stand going
on that journey again.

Doesn’t matter.

They pack up the car. I’m in the back seat.
We set off on that journey back in
time, to that place where another journey
began in much the same way.

Doesn’t matter.

The long journey is always the same.
and the destination keeps slipping
away from memory. Even a fly has a very
small brain.