mhall46184@aol.com
An Empty, Rusting Boxcar
This day will be just like so many others
An empty rusting boxcar creaking and grinding
Along behind other rusting boxcars
And followed by yet more rusting boxcars
Along a railway line from nowhere to nowhere
Across far plains, dry, featureless, and void
Dreams ride the rails like hoboes from the past
But they never seem to arrive anywhere
An empty rusting boxcar creaking and grinding
This night will be just like so many others
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