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