Right and left – poem

My car would sometimes drift to the right

when I didn’t hold the steering wheel,

sometimes it would drift to the left,

but I needed to go straight,

so I kept my hands on the wheel.


We drift right or left imperceptibly,

which doesn’t mean we go straight.

There is no God to tell us where to turn,

which doesn’t mean we can drive off the road.

There might be only more road ahead,

and nothing else, until we run out of gas.

There’s no certainties but one,

the road is forward.


There’s no God to forbid us fruits.

Before, all trees were good for us but one.

Now the world is ridden with poisoned fruits.

There’s no God to rebel against,

so now rebellion is just a teenage fad,

till we grow up and do what we must:

move forward, hands on wheel, without drifting,

so we don’t provoke a crash by being smartasses.



I'm a writer born in Argentina, but currently living in Poland. I work as an English and French teacher, translator and copywriter.

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