Train of Thought
Chug-a, chug-a, chug-a, chug
You fall behind, you're out of luck.
Brute mechanisms all in place
to stay on track & win the race,
They work in time and go in sync
so you'll go far, or so you think.
You run and fall and try to rise, but
you've already fallen so far behind.
The wheel, it comes, it finds its mark,
its steely work cuts you apart.
The metal screams and rushes on,
Chug-a, chug-a, chug-a, chug,
The whistle blows without you.
This poem is about:
Our world