Tire

When my life does expire
my poems will roll on like a tire
even though the words
and thoughts aren't new
the arrangements will give people 
something to chew on and on
as the threads become smooth
the next generation will feel my groove 
and light their own fire
with ditties that inspire 
as they roll on like a steel-belted tire.

Tire by D.W. Dowling (Meredith M. 1998)

Other poems:

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Ring and the Scar

The Legend of Hugh Hefner

Say Hello 2 Heaven Chris Cornell and Gregg Allman

World Mourns Princess Diana 20 Years Later

Little Black Dress