two hundred-ninety.

my life.

like a train on its tracks,
you, like an observant by-stander
watching the train take its course
not knowing its final destination,
not aware of what it possesses,  what it holds, what it carries,
not thinking of where its starting point is -

surveying the art scribed on the boxes,
you look intensely and can't figure out
why they violated the body of the box car
however, you find it entertaining -
you want to travel with the train
that is taking its course,

you want to follow it to its unknown destination,
not knowing what it possesses, what it holds, what it carries,
not thinking of where it started its journey -
you, you just want to go.

the idea of that is frightening -
this life is no joy ride to escape
with strange transportations,
my tracks are rugged, not clean,
crooked, being straightened.

beware, if you choose to hop on,
you must study the maps and the course
of the places i've gone, i've come from, i'm going -
the trail is less traveled, yeah, let's travel.

warning - beware, this ride may be long -
the conductor sings hymns and freedom songs.