Sometimes when driving I cease driving and stop my car

I find a field and sit on a rock or even a grassy bank

And think about how alive I am and how due to a small error

On my behalf or because of a slight miscalculation by a truck driver

I might cease living my existence would cease I would cease to exist

The rock would remain where it was and the grassy bank would not change

The absurdity of it all makes me smile as I should not be sitting and thinking about this

In an area of my country that I never knew existed at all until my visit

I might leave my car abandoned and walk away this is a choice I have

But I have invested a great deal into this sleek killing machine

And know that abandonment is not an option and that my perceived freedoms are very limited