Tracks

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I have travelled so far along this train track, 

each station I’ve left and I’m not turning back.

Through field we speed up and cities slow down,

around me the packages of love I have found.

I’ve been on this train, for most of my life,

since when I first walked and bumped into strife.

For now I sit forward, but I’ve sat facing back,

my eyes cast downward, along rusty old tracks.

Those tracks of my years, in minutes and days,

they are rolling on by and yet not going away. 

The conductor walks through, at intervals now,

he knows where I’m going, just does somehow.

No, I don’t need a ticket, this ride is for free,

the long journey I am travelling, is only for me.

The carriage I’m travelling is empty, no door,

until I reach the conclusion, I won’t know for sure.

 

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