She had been watching me since I got on the train
Building my story in her mind
Steeling her nerve to approach me
With a deep breath she rose from her seat
Pushed herself down the aisle toward me
She dropped herself in the open seat beside me

She asked, “Are you a runaway?”
I said that depends on how you look at it
We are all running from something
But I think I’m headed in the right direction
Semantics I guess,
but I felt I was running toward
not running away
just moving on

Thanks for your concern kind lady
I can see it in your bright brown eyes
That someone ran away from you one day
You are only hoping to correct that error
but I cannot help you with that pain
that is your journey

she headed back to her seat
and left me to my windowpane
I considered her question as the miles rolled by
And with every turn of the wheels,
I get further from

But no one back there is missing me
Back where I was a younger man
There’s just confusion and resolve
To live the life you were handed down

I can’t accept that legacy
So much more on my mind
I’ll take my chances out here
On the rail, with fate, my roll, and time

Just take my chances out here
On the rail, with fate, my roll, and time

This is the story of a truly evil man
He does not remember who he is
or the twisted things he did in the past.  
He lives a life unencumbered with regret, or guilt.
Free to move forward in the world.  
A ship suddenly at full sail with no anchor.
Just brightness and possibility
and speed from the lightness of a bleach spotless soul.
Then one day a sickening spark is ignited.  
Like a flash going off
gives a brief glimpse of things that wait in the dark.  
Soon the occasional flash becomes a strobe light.  
All his actions from the past coming flickering back into view.  
Like a madman running at you from across a field.
The strobe always blinking.  
What will he do when the madman gets to him,
becomes him,
reclaims him,
is him
again?

like the lion became the house cat
and the wolf became the poodle
*** has been domesticated
it has been made small and controllable
your desires have been selectively bred
down to acceptable sizes
nothing too grand
or over the top
stray too far from the center
and they will
castrate you in the press