Qm (quarter Mile)

The road less travelled
Gnashing teeth of those who quarrelled
Quck shift, stick metal
Losing is so fatal

Burn those gums to smoke
On first gear don't choke!
Not everyone is chosen
To race! To thrill! The shift is my pen!

It's a long, quick race
Pounding hearts; Thunder days!
Iconic revs; one big time
No rules but my rhyme!

Don't look at me but the flag
Never blink, your sweet purse nag
It's pouring; it's drilling
Drilling me to a sting

We'll be there in a while
All in! Give it up for this sacred isle


-Bonfire Helium
18 Aug 2016
(for my son, Gabo)

Bel Harry Tirona
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 03/10/2019 The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.