Thursday, October 7, 2010


I am but one a man and I wonder if they even know my name
or care
and as I drive down this familiar street
with this asshole in front of me turning with no blinkers/no warning
like these thoughts that are texting my heart to wonder
if all that I give is worth it.

They don’t even know my name
but continue to judge my expression as egotistical
like the asshole I just talked to on the phone from sprint
who wouldn’t adjust my bill after his own mistake
turning it around to justify me as the bad guy.

I am preoccupied driving or is it this driving
that is preoccupying my thinking/these thoughts
are diving my mind because I love to believe in others
but as these tears have barely just dried from the loss
of my mother, I can only wonder if they believe in me
or am I being used in their game to define their own name;
I have to allow these emotions to tame
because I’m always the asshole who takes the blame
when my words shout louder than my dreams
( to be taken seriously).

I am but one man placed upon this pedestal
by those who don’t even know my name; they only know the image.
The asshole behind me just honked his horn,
perhaps I’m thinking too slow or maybe I’m just believing too much
in trust.
Maybe now I’m the asshole turning another corner
without knowing my way
or have I just been given the wrong direction
from those who don’t know my name.

© 2010
Tarringo T. Vaughan


  1. As I have said before you do some of your most powerful thinking in traffic. At the end of the day we are all assholes, some bigger than others, the difference some assholes can write eliciting feelings in others.
    I love how you went with your feelings here cruising along and made poetry unlike some who make road rage, Love ya T
    Peace Blessings

  2. I'll second Ava Maria's words to a T V Vaughan then. yes, a soldier of expression , keep tooting ya horn my friend

  3. Thank you both..I don't plan on stopping:)


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