freestyle vagueness

Something I wrote in 8th grade, back in the day.

The snow crunches under me and no one's listening.
The sound of cars on the freeway always comforts me
even when I have the worst of headaches.

When I get home, there is no one to listen to.
I sit in my father's recliner and wonder where life went.

"Out to lunch, be back in a few hours."

Now my ear itches, but I don't dare scratch it.


I wonder what life had for lunch...