The Back Seat

When you sit in the front of the car

Then you know that wherever you are

You can see what’s ahead

(If there’s traffic, with dread)

And have views that can stretch near and far.

 

But if somehow, you’re stuck in the back

Then a sense of perspective you’ll lack.

You can stare out the sides

Into other folks’ rides

Or at scenery codes you can’t crack.

 

Sitting way in the back makes me feel

Like a kid with my dad at the wheel

When my worries were few

And I had not a clue

Of what life in the back could conceal.