we're on a train
hurtling towards a chasm
tracks dip into the pit
and you tell me, "baby, put the gun away
look at me: not now, not today
we'll shift the tracks, change the course
or jump out and escape on a horse
and ride away from fate
we still have time, it's not too late"
YOU ARE READING
i'll never be a poet
Poetryand here's the pretentious proof an ongoing anthology of the poetry of nobodi.
