There is just so much,
Right now.
The ups and downs of walking straight.
And the pros and cons of turning away.
This railroad track,
Is losing it's friction,
And the cargo cars,
Are spilling the secrets,
That the horn is trying to hide.
As we count to seven,
Waiting to leap.
And my old faded chucks,
Are clinging to the rusty bar,
And smiling at the wooden planks.
My once long hair,
Hips behind me,
Preparing to pull me back,
If necessary.
And your stone hand,
Is squeezing mine,
In an obvious Morse code.
The yellow clouds,
Are waving good-bye,
And the green grass,
Is calling hello.
The trickling
Of our two lives,
Creates a river surrounding us,
Protecting us,
From the outside sleet.
And I know one day:
It'll be.