The band wagon is leaving
and I am not in it
It's driver is speeding
and all I can do is watch it
I don't know if another will come
but I know this is not home
This is only a transition
one that many see as their mansion
Life is stages of places
here that I am now is one
behind, here and ahead, are countless faces
that feel for me to have them is for me to have won
It feels true, but the truth points it to be a hinderance
one only my goal can propel me past without another glance
There are furrows along every path
in one now I lay
I settle down, even take a bath
it feels like a place to stay
but I know I need to remember that graph
that shows recession as progress' chaff
It never makes the farmer laugh
but it better's his existing craft
The wagon is leaving
but now I see
I am not to be in it
I am an owner of a jeep
what I need is my car key
not a ticket to ride to prison
it may be free but not for me
It is a dream down a pit
time seems so petit
but with more of it, clearer I see
If I don't go down steep slopes like now
I'd reach my highest peak in time so swift
and spend the rest of time in a motion not at all swift
going lower with a bow worse than like now
So I guess this is a moment to be grateful of
I hate it but it is to make me
that my peak will be at my death, one many will be grateful of
it will not be for me a lesson but that for many a lesson it may be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem