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Goodness.

It’s a runaway train heading towards a crowd.

You’re all dead now.

You’re all dead now.

Keep treading in your wading pools

too scared to face the sea

you’ll be dragged under

and then you’ll think of me.

I’m the conductor of this train

and you’re stuck out on the tracks

red along the iron-ways

but I bet I make it back

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Written by
riley-m-adair
American
Published
Dec 22, 2011
Lines·Words
11·62
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