That's where life began
Easy loads on dusty roads
Driven by a callouse handed man
On weekends I would hear
The laughter of children
Going to the picture show
Under majestic skies of beauty
With my gentle loaded cargo
A dust storm came without warning
Stripped of my outer shell
Eventually we headed northward
For work in the city of hell
My frame remained in seclusion
No more gentle loads
How I missed the children's laughter
On those rural roads
Times went by until one day
I found myself in different hands
Whiskey was my new cargo
I traveled through strange lands
The men who traveled with me
Had bullets in their guns
Meeting others on desolate roads
Indeed they were strange ones
My body was riddled with bullets
The flow of blood inside
Again I sat in seclusion
As though my life had died
Again I sat for many days
In dust filled shafts of light
Outside was heard the grind of traffic
Which gave me much insight
I found myself in different hands
Field workers were my new cargo
I traveled through strange lands
They spoke an odd language indeed
In my journeys none would exceed
The strangeness of this operation
That ran along a border
Chaos in boarding me always present
In a commotion of disorder
The roads were rough-sometimes ditches
Water grazed my shell
Until one day my heart stopped beating
My oil gauges fell
Now I sit in open fields
There are no crops to which it yields
Yes my journeys strange indeed
Pondering what occured over time
In my life that was decreed
~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment