{loco Gone} Poem by Seth Morrow

She keeps on moving down the track.
A locomotive thats never coming back.
Anywhere bound on high, and flying.
Straight and true there's no denying
'She's gone! ' The whistles crying.

The fires hot the coals burning.
Steams on high, the wheels turning.
Whistle screams as speed increases.
'To late now! ' The tickets torn to peaces.

This freight is gone on a one way mission.
'You had your chance', again it hisses.
On silver steel it keeps on rolling.
Down the track with the cars it's pulling.
No conductor and no destination.
No stops and no depot stations.

Cold black steel please come on back.
Stop the train right on the track.
Quench the flames that burn like hell.
'It's too late', the whistle yells.