We are all made from dirt.
He was just a man who caught the midnight train bound for life.
Love, faith, happiness, luck, gathered like a hand of playing cards
were all he wanted;
but wanting don't make a thing true.
He saw Time give up the struggle. Life was a blur
he stood outside, tangled in Finite things
perhaps this was his curse, for truth is a blanket
too short
and
too thin.
blinded by his ignorance, he avoided the depths
for what you don't know won't hurt you.
He stopped at a yellow boxlike station
and watched the unpainted faces file by, waiting for
Something.
But there's a lot of things you never get if you wait
and for a brief interval, he remembered
not everything was the same.
It all depended on what you did with the dirt.
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2 comments:
juxtaposition! niice
I love this narrative and the way it comes full circle at the end. It does depend on what you do with the dirt. Excellent job. - elmeer
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