When The Wheels Fell Off

The imprint we left on the pavement in my hometown,
when the wheels fell off, was small in size but colossal in every other way

We couldn't have seen it coming, the sound was deafening, and we were lucky enough
to have stopped when we did instead of going dangerously further

The weight on the passenger side of the car must have been too much
and that was my fault, the symbolism could have choked the crowd that was gathering

A sight to see for a small town and we were on display, a concrete catwalk and we were unclothed, you should have never been put in that position

There's a divot, a pothole, that sits there now, it doesn't get any smaller but it grows every so often when something touches it, and my skin is starting to feel like pavement