All Tired Out

I'm all tired out,
Have got no tread.

Face the future
With a bit of dread.

Started with a slight bulge. 
Imperceptible to divulge.  

Felt the vibration,
Deep inside.

An instability,
That couldn’t hide. 

Like wheels were coming off,
Never to reach their goal. 

Cast by the road.
Like a tired old sole. 

Bloated, distorted, about to burst. 
Agony that was at its worst. 

Out of balance, out of line,
Relief--a blowout--bad, bad sign. 

To go flat would be better,
Yes, to go flat would be fine.  

A new tire’s in order
But credit's at redline,

Broke and busted,
It’s about time. 

Out of tolerance, out of skew. 
Never leaving this heat for you. 

Finally, new rubber all-around,
Headed out, pavement to pound. 

Until, once again, she leaves me flat,
And I’m all tired out


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Copyright 2002 © Ronald W. Hull