It’s not the storm keeping me awake.
Mr. Train so far and full of hope,
where are you going?
Could you take me along?
Your blaring horn could lull me to sleep.
And let this storm persist
so that it may keep, me from
walking into the world and
glancing upon the day’s dead end.
Twisted in the sheets
lies my broken body
in broken sleep.
Tossing and turning
over broken thoughts I keep
questioning.