Midnight TrainsMature

These midnight trains

Riding every which way

This overwhelming feeling

Of nothing,

With no one to talk to

These Dostoyevsky dreams

Filling the empty space between my ears

I can’t do it anymore.

It’s almost as simple as that,

Except it never is.

Simplicity is as forgotten as those distant isles

We hoped to attain someday

Where the moon shines, lonesome

On the clear blue sea

And sweet Norse statues

That claim that life needs to be



Apparatuses and sciences

Filling our time

When I just want to sit

And watch the leaves turn brown

Maybe it’s the hint of laziness

Left from my father’s ability

Of overwork and the stresses it brings.

Maybe I was born this way.

Meant to do nothing in the sun lit times

Perhaps I was to be that faithful child

To harbor on the banks of thought

And pursue what other, everyone, needs


It’s those brick buildings

That stand so tall,

Making you feel like you’re away from it all.

When I read the ancient pillars

And I heed their ancient words

That mean nothing today

I feel like spray paint

Would be the thing to have

And whiteout to write

What’s meant to be written

On every college doorsteps

On every mission statement

On every goal ever.

 Ever even attempted.

“Life is only what you can remember.

And Freedom,

Freedom is only as much as you can own.

Now smile big, bitch.

For you had no choice.

And you won’t.

No matter how you write.

Or play your art to the keys.”


And in the black, cloudy darkness

That sinks in after every sun

A pulsating sound

Of engine’s roar

And a cross of metallic glory

Brings that beast to scream

Two screams. No more.

As it fades into the clouds it produces

The sound stays.

But my thoughts don’t.

The End

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