If I was cemented on that one-way highway
words could not be said loud and fast enough
to slow down my destined tires, for a change.
Isn't the driver always in control?
No, I am not turning illegally around
or even delaying the firestorm,
I merely need a lonely home
where walls cannot fasten my promises
onto their voice recording cameras.
I will not be made a fool, at least
not while I have a mission,
wielded into my eye socket.
