Train of Thought

Wed, 04/05/2017 - 15:44 -- Kaybarr

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

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