I'm sliding off the rail
from which a mind
used to hang,
dripped in perspiration
lost in malaise.
She once believed in me
as they believe in you,
and I can't shake the strain
of a neck in a noose.
Swinging back and forth
its not a way to live,
cookie cutter dreams
and strainers that won't give.
While somewhere along the line
we all cross a bend,
leading off the tracks
to ghouls and ghost men.
But I can't seem to care
enough to stop the pain
forming friends over family
and fire over rain.
A levy in which i find
no good way to mend,
ties that are broken
while streams rise again
pain is as deep
as deep as is pain
round and round we go
auto-
matans
on a train.
Copyright (c) David DeSantis
David DeSantis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ghost-tracks/
