My words choke up in singular syllables like a train slamming on its breaks so as not to hit the little boy on the railroad tracks. I am the little boy as well as the train, no sense of impending doom only the rush of adrenaline as i escape death one more day. My mom always warned me not to play with fire but you were just so enticing i could not help but let the flames lick my fingertips leaving rust in its track. Like the old railroad track i am creaky and wise i have seen death as i have also seen the purity in the human race. your lips were like the grass sliding through my fingers wrapping themselves around me enveloping me in an embrace. The rain came out and like all kids i could no longer play, my sadness sat next to me and watched as the rain dripped down. I cant help but notice maybe this is my way of letting go maybe as the train stops it gives me another chance to look with a new perspective and find the beauty in this trial. Or maybe its showing me ive gone too far and can no longer slow down and stop to wait for another passer by to glance at me and see my potential.