12/11/2024
In lanes of rush and roaring steel,
Where wheels spin fast and hearts conceal,
There lies a tale of times now past,
When brotherhood was built to last.
Drivers nodded, waved, and smiled,
Their journeys long, their spirits wild,
A bond formed in the asphalt's weave,
A silent code that few perceive.
Yet now, it seems the warmth has waned,
The camaraderie once sustained,
By honks of greeting, now turned cold,
In the fast lane's unyielding hold.
But hope still flickers, like a star,
That respect might travel from afar,
To mend the ties that fray and wear,
In the brotherhood we all share.
Let's forgive, forget, and raise a prayer,
For fellow travelers everywhere,
That the road may see a brighter day,
When the drivers' respect comes back to stay.
So here's to the wheeling brethren's creed,
To plant anew that gracious seed,
And watch it grow with each mile spun,
The brotherhood of the road, reborn as one.
