Dad Poet Society

Probably my favorite genre of poetry, if you want to call it that, is the country-western song. You can say whatever you please, and somebody out there is going to be able to relate to it. This is an attempt at a country-western lyric titled Train Bound for Nowhere.

My train of life keeps screaming through the wind and through the rain,
but I can’t enjoy the view because there’s no windows on my train,
just the one up front a-searching where I think I want to be,
just the one headlamp a-pulling toward an unseen destiny.

When I wake up every morning, I can’t wait for day to end.
I waste a day, no matter, I’ve got plenty more to spend.
There’s no taste now to the liquor; there’s no fun in what I drink.
It’s the bottom of the glass I want, so I won’t have to think.

And those friendships that I’m needing, I can’t relish for today.
I keep waiting for the truth to come and blow today away.
As my train streaks toward tomorrow, I’m still trapped in yesterday,
and today flies by unnoticed as I dream my life away.