I walked out to the train tracks
at the southern end of town
and I stood and watched and waited
as the trains ran up and down
over to the station,
minding not as I had watched;
caring not of who I was,
without a passing thought.
I edged up to the iron ends,
watching as the trains
pushed and pulled and never stopped
for sleet or hail or rain
and briefly I admired
how they simply carried on;
chugging, chugging, chugging,
’til the train was far and gone.
I stepped onto the tracks
where I could be reborn.
The conductor yelled and panicked
and I heard the blasting horn.
But I did not plan to end it,
and instead I stepped aside.
I had wanted just a moment
someone cared if I had died.
