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A poem I wrote


at****

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We've all been on one side of the tracks or the other.

Some are born to wealth... others to blight or status.

Some sit watching, as the cars come charging by.
Others jump the train to travel some place.

We all find ourselves in some relationship to the tracks now and again.

How then, shall we view it?

Some wonder as it shoves over the track.

Others watch box car graffiti, and imagine where it will go.

But, we all look.

We all watch it.

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