life sometimes gives you one of those things that is not meant to be opened
rusting in the yard not roaming the open road purpose unfulfilled
tidy and ordered it’s a politeness that is socially enforced
wind whipped and worn tossed about like a rag doll but still standing tall
creativity can be fueled by restrictions think inside the box
when something is gone we still believe it exists since the tracks don’t meet
give it one last turn you want to crank it down tight make sure it’s secure
each crack tells a tale of life, of joy, of heartache tales that can’t be faked
a day spent watching as the world hurries about requires comfort
even though needed as part of the big picture freedom is tempting
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