Souls of Men

I almost ran in the back of the same rusty Lincoln 5 times this morning
That rusty car started the chain of
Thoughts
That
Made
Me
Screech
On
My
Brakes
That same rusty car sparked old aches
That once moved my world like earthquakes.
That rust reminded me that everything on this earth changes
And rearranges.
Complicated relationships tangle and untangle,
Perception changes like looking at life from a different angle.
The rusty old car had me thinking of myself.
Once new and green.
Wild eyed and full of optimism.
Now I bend the rules so much
They aren't broken they're mangled,
Twisted and construed stacked on top of each other
Like works of art not to be hung in museums,
But hanging,
Weighing heavily
Making my head hang low.
I've become and artful expression of the evils of the world.
On display.
The souls of men.