Like a passenger, trapped inside a speeding car,
With no control, but hanging on in desperation,
images flashing past, not seen long enough for your mind to comprehend their meaning,
Only touching you enough, to instill their importance on the fringes of your consciousness,
And the feelings of helplessness rush through your veins,
like the oil in the engine of your capture,
filling you with a sense of dread and uncertainty,
The wave of sickness that rises from the very bottom of your gut,
Engulfs you, making your feel like it's spinning out of control,
And you want so much for it to stop, or even just slow down,
But you are only the passenger and have no importance,
No right to complain,
You are strapped tightly to your seat, and you can not get off.


© cloudy blue