Lady at the tracks – a poem

She walked the track,
high on crack
didn’t fear the train,
her life a chorus of pain.
She felt a slight buzz,
not making a fuzz about being almost naked.
Wandering soul,
I want to rescue her,
make er whole.
Ur’ can’t do it,
I myself drunk like shit.
We could only drag each other down,
with a frown I saw to coming train.
An am track with speed,
I yelled some words to take heed.
She didn’t listen,
vanished under the blazing vehicle,
a gruesome spectacle,
like she never really existed.

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