Impounded

 Little plastic truck
One that fits neatly into a carpark
a reolved matter
Night is no time for driving

The lost streets that connect to main avenues
where thieves hide in the shadows
clouds are too afraid to rain
here I am running my hand over this plastic truck

now it's lost, it's been impounded
I walk empty mid morning
that piece of garbage was my spirit
I am mute as one leg goes infront of the other

When I had that plastic truck I had a destination
now all I have is the sinking feeling
That without my little plastic truck
life has no meaning.