Another Kind of Freedom (#poem)

Getting your driver’s license when you turn 16
Some wanting it more than anything
I don’t know why I resisted
I surrendered when my mother insisted

Parents terrify you when you’re learning to drive
White-knuckled and buckled, praying to stay alive
I remember a story about a girl barely surviving
Those teen-age years with more worries than driving

The first time I solo’d in that blue Chevrolet
On Oregon back roads once we left L.A.
I knew then my first taste of real freedom
Cars would forever beckon like a beacon

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