There are days you don't want to come home

You just want to be lost on the road

Headed nowhere

You want to be consumed by the bustling and noise from trailers and tankers

Home is not where you find peace

It is where your worries and frustration hang like a portrait

Like a work of art

Sometimes you stare at the art you have created

From the barrage of frustration and sadness

And you tell yourself, one day you’ll end it all
You’re a work of art

You're your frustrations

Your grey hairs, your sunken eyes are mere aesthetics of your art

-Victor Adedayo