The Highway to Hell

Riding on the wrought plains of woe,
a marginalized road paved with blackened snow,
steeped in boiling sweat of those undone,
road rollers broke upon the hollow tracks overrun.

Rising above the dust of worn out souls,
laid to rest under the smoking cigarette rolls.
Turned to stop the blistering march of the funeral band,
found myself done in on their command.

~AJ

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