42ND and 3rd.
Going to forty second and third,
that’s where I’ll meet my Fate, .
Some may say it’s really absurd,
‘your not allowed to make that date’
I say do not walk silent to an end,
you have a choice, play an ace.
Scream shout, run around, spend.
you don’t have to go at their pace.
My mind races up front in cue,
my future’s saviour is here to dine,
Why not him, so many others do,
surely not all will walk this line.
Why travel to the unfamiliar and odd,
what gives us the right to tread there.
Thinking these aliens now down trod,
do our beckoning, and technology share.
Oh obnoxious beasts, the Earths cancer,
have we killing one, feel still not sated.
Imagine a place devoid of the romancer,
an awful thought, could it be contemplated.
Could we retreat the harm we’ve sewn,
bringing sense not greed to a leader’s table.
Leaders who already know what’s done,
refusing to face fact, even if they’re able.
No my station is one after forty one,
my train is special and self attaining,
Track with no stops for the authoritarian,
my desire of arbitrate never waning.
Comments
Many thanks
for your time and comments. Love Roscoe...
a deft touch with rhyme,
a deft touch with rhyme, meter and meaning.
That last line bothers me.
for arbitration?