Depleted

The air in my tires
has slowly depleted
And this morning,
I could hear the rubber squealing
as my car rounded a curve
to leave the highway
The screech prompted me to
turn around and find a place
to fill them up again
I sat idling for too long
among numerous others
who were there before me
so I gave up
Listening to the radio
a prisoner of the same song
I put the gear in reverse
and headed back home
Walking inside
alone again
the smell of black crayon
melted from extreme heat
echoed the sound
of tires wearing thin;
my patience disappearing
like elevating wheels
on a distant tarmac