If My Brain Is a Train

Some say the mind is a vessel
That sails a deep blue stream
I say it’s composed of locomotives
Which are run by power of steam

If my brain is a train
Station, each thought
Follows its own track
And those forgotten moments
May never come back

Every morning, the station crowds
Anxious people and loud voices
While the conductor of each thought
Prepares to make his choices

By noon the contemplations and questions
Have boarded the boxcars and begun their trip
Each train departs on its own track
Diverging paths, limits more strict than the ocean ship

As the day makes progress, the thoughts follow suit
While the train-tracked journey nears its final destination
The trains move along, and conversations spur
Some trains crash, and lost thoughts cause humiliation

Skies darken as the final leg is run, or rather, driven
Most problems, resolved and most questions, answered
Sleepy-eyed passengers impatient will become
Most upcoming plans which require effort are deterred

At journey’s end, the passengers depart
And freight is stored away for later uses
The thoughts are made complete with the nights final words
For what are trains without cabooses?


Chelsea Mitchell

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