Tyre. A poem. 

An average car tyre
Covers thousands of miles
Before it gets to the end of its time

Rarely a smooth ride
The tyre bumps and slides
Goes round, then flattens and dies

Some days I’m a tyre
Just rolling through strife
And always left wondering why

And if I’m a tyre
That explains why I’m tired
Of going round and round all of my life


Another experiment in meter, timing and rhyme. It’s based on limerick structure.

I like to try different poetic forms. Free verse is cool, but sometimes I think I use it a lot because I’m a bit…lazy. 

But maybe that’s just me overthinking again.

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