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.