I was walking to work today
when a train got in my way.
It seemed like it was half an hour long,
Staring at car after car while caution lights flash red.
On and on and on it goes to a destination I do not know
Rumbling and rattling bed frames and window cills.

For five minutes the commotion in town is forced to slow down,
Slow down and observe the surrounding scenery
Some with low patience scream and shout while anxiously waiting
Some with a place to be call to say "I'll be late from this"
While the patient ones will sit and wait in wonder

Sometimes the train is a pain and drives the locals insane.
It doesn't stop to ask how we're doing or what's going on in our lives
It just passes through our town, uses what it needs, then leaves
                                   just like that.
Like a traveling business man, here on a two day business trip,
who hits up the local bars late at night to find a one hit quit chick.
But we dont know where that train is from
or what it's been through
or the stories it has to tell.
So who are we to get angry at it and belittle it?
What makes it right to hate on what we don't understand?
These trains all carry something we could use
            been somewhere we haven't
            seen something we've never seen
You may not realize it now,
by it you will find out later.
Each train has a unique story to tell of all it's travels
                    but hardly has time to tell them.
Graffiti covered boxcars are all we have to tell of where they've been.
So when I was stopped by that train today
I didnt see it as a nuisance, nor call it any names.
I just pondered in envy as it passed, wondering about it's untold stories, and let it continue on it's way.