Lately I've been stuck on a train track existence.
Following metal ties and rotten wood.
I've laid down pennies hoping for derailment, but I know that, that idea, is wishful thinking.
Sometimes I wish to find the damsel in distress,
Tied to the tracks, held hostage by a dastardly, scorn lover.
Unfortunately, I have found,
that there is happiness in slavery,
much to be desired in maltreatment.
The puzzling aspect,
is what becomes of the hero?
At one time, he was looked upon as desirable;
one who would garner all affection.
This is no longer the case.
The hero is scoffed, rebuked,
and better left alone.
Must I suffer such impropriety,
should I rebel?
Is this where the train ride ends?
Or should I just give in?
Cozy myself in the straw-beds,
with the vagabonds,
who live only too serve the basest needs.
"If you want Pretty Penny, You just take her!"
Sometimes, I will admit, the ricketing of the earth beneath me, massages my inward works, and stimulates my senses.
I know, however, that this is false, and only a distraction.
I Must suffer your bitter fruit.
I must placate myself from your freight car abomination,
and jump off at the next crossing of tracks.
I will live off your foul remains,
and know that when I refuse
the delicacies of the conductor,
my own rotten sustenance will digest without a heavy heart.
Ring the bell, and let the brakes screech to a halt,
Tell my lover in the midwest,
"this is where I get off."