Lost with a Smile

The headlights cast their feeble light on the long, lonely road.
The face in shadow, illuminated only by dashboard lights.
The only company, as they say, the ghost of Tom Joad.
The clock drags on and the mind wanders all through these nights.

Music screams over the stereo, the wind whips through the cab.
The engine roars and the tires squeal, the turn taken too fast.
The grin is ghastly, the eyes glint, the gaze through the darkness stabs.
Running from the future, living in the present, longing always for the past.

Mistakes were made, but no remorse followed.
The grin always there, mocking, rocking, born of pain.
In order to live and lie, pride had to be swallowed.
On this long, lonely road, it begins to rain.

The windows stay down, the music keeps playing.
Speed is gained, the grin grows wider, the car screams down the road.
Eyes narrow, the wheel gripped tighter, nerves never fraying.
Enough with nights like this, enough with this heavy load.

The grin never falters, the hands come off the wheel.
The music still playing, the windows still down.
Rain in the eyes, not caring, just knowing, to feel.
The car spins, goes end over end, plows into the ground.

The wreck will be found, the funeral held, mourners all in black.
A soul was lost, and lost shall it stay, on this long, lonely road.
Forever will it wander, longing for the past, wishing to come back.
The grin will still grow, always and ever, lost with the ghost of Tom Joad.