When I was a boy, I could see my future
Waiting at the end of a tunnel-vision.
I wanted to be it, live it – the future –
So I hopped a train and rode that tunnel,
Down, down, down to the light on the other side.
There were people standing in the tunnel as I rushed by –
Some strangers, some recognizable –
But on the train, I was alone;
And I wasn’t stopping until I had reached my future.
I could still see it ahead of me,
But the light on the other side never got closer;
I went faster to make up for lost time.
Soon the people outside the train emptied one-by-one
As I shuttled by,
And there were no more lights,
And I could no longer see my future,
And all that existed was me, an old man,
In this train,
In this tunnel-vision, going nowhere.
And I wished I could go back.