She yells at other drivers,

But we are on a wholesome mission.

The other drivers do not pester me

I get to drive and she says,

I take the screwy way,

That she can never tell

Which direction we’re going in,

That each week is a different way,

But she is seeing the same landmarks.

While we eat dinner, I work

Especially hard to study

The inside of her eyes,

But I cannot hold for long

For then she can study mine,

And I worry that she will think

I am gone and my soul is dead.

I love her and want her to be

Okay with me, but it changes rapidly.

It is up and down, and that is supposed

to be okay as I should be proud of

How she treats me so evenly.

Sometimes, she tells me I am some

Creep  from outer space, and she

Has no idea of who I am or what I might

Do? Might I be evil, God, might I be?

But I keep loving her.

She is trying, she is working.

Some day she might love me again.

I am trying to be good enough.