Train

The pessimistic board their seats on the past

The daring ride on the present express

The optimistic hover on anticipations of the future

There are the lost wanderers

Watching from the side as trains whiz by

Some jump on the tracks

Their legs severed,bleeding in agony

Living carcasses,waiting to be picked on

By troubles and emptiness encircling prey

Then there are the late comers who've missed their train

There's a light at the end of the tunnel

It ain't heaven but it sure is hope though.