BETWEEN THE ROAD AND THE RAIL

I’m walking a line between the road and the rail
Where the colors of life appear worn and pale
An encumbered plot constricted by scale
Narrow in width a perpetual trail

The weeds creep in from edges defined
Finding their way from the world outside
Bounded by fringes that boarder the mind
Staking their claim in a world confined

A solace refuge void of purpose and place
Where order’s created by nature displaced
The edges littered with wanton waste
Defining a path that beckons a way

Searing asphalt and creosote soaked dust
A solace refuge void of purpose and trust
Good intentions found corrupt
Impartial judgment armored with rust

Parallel lines that converge on the horizon
No turns, bends, or perceptible deviation
I’m moving forward in a single direction
Step by step, section by section

A surface scoured through time and neglect
Forged with bitterness and aimless contempt
Harboring souls of life’s reject
Between the space where lines connect

Forging ahead through life’s betrayal
Hoping for passage of conductors hail
Watching trains pass to no avail
Living between the road and the rail

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