A Poem
by Robert Hindle
People are playing waiting for the rain
Happy tomorrow, playing today
I’m wishing I was somewhere where I could feel
A place where the lies seem real
On this journey alone, the wheels grinding the steel
The squeel of brakes, slowly my tears congeal
Throughout this epitaph of whether and what I will be
On the horizon rises a past I can’t see
Through and through and throughout, cleansing the lie
Watching around me, face to the sky
Watching around me, no time to be shy.
Did you ever have this?
Or is it just me?
Maybe forever nothing but sea
No land to conquer, no stability.