Wheel Rut Love

My sweet, darling bride,
Seems we’re stuck on this ride.
And I hope that we can deal.

It’s like I’m never winning.
These tires just keep on spinning.
Solid ground would be ideal.

Though most would call the wrecker,
She smiles at this broken record,
As mud eats my spinning wheel.

I have my keystone and my compass
And words that don’t encompass
Exactly what I feel.

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