Experience Tumblr like never before
Rusty white with a big blue stripe,
the old pickup, a pick-me-up
in the shape of a flatbed truck.
He drives fast with the music blasting,
windows cranked down because the AC never works,
or maybe just to share his music with the world.
His voice pours out the window to the beat of a drum
as the pounding music rocks and swells
and brings the old radio back to life.
It’s an adrenaline rush, that old white truck,
and the driver inside. Four wheels, one heart,
flying on a song down the old dirt road.
With the blood of a cousin, the heart
of a friend, a protector, a brother, a guardian.
Wings hidden beneath thick skin, or rusty white paint.
The heart of freedom, a crazy heart.
A heart with no direction, a truck with no map.
Windows open, open heart.