These Anxious people
They're running
A race
Panting in the hills of small tasks
Scared of each beat of their heart
For so many flaws
They want me to catch up
I want to stay put
These hyacinths are beautiful
On the side of the road

They run a path with hills but it's straight
Eyes tunneled
They know where they're going
Trying to be a train
A machine

Yet as I step off the path
All eyes turn back
Their gears stop turning
Gripped in fear
Cause where could I be going?
Off the road
Off the track
Of the intended path
Cause if I'm not a machine
Run by coal and oil
I have the roar of my heart
The song in my head
Sneakers loosely tied
I want to live my life as if it is mine
My life to be longer than trains passing in subways
Smelling better than the sweat of industry
More complex than labeled buttons
Scattered but in a line