We push forward, fixed to our one-track path. The outside world flashes by, getting sucked into the past; taking with it my mind’s eye.
I think of you,
now you’re alone.
There were things I longed to do,
but I ran away to lead a life that is my own.
But what is life if singular?
There are many things that we are,
many that we should be;
with the right state of mind, many more that we could be.
I see your sadness, torn away from those you loved.
Thrown alone into a world, rinsed of trust.
I never once saw you sway, holding your demons at bay;
it kills me to see you this way:
engulfed and lost in sadness and pain
and the best I can do is write on a train,