Next station

Next station
 

For how long will you be wandering in this same station?
The black iron horse is passing by
Smoke from the nose
Spreading coal through the lungs
Galloping on an endless trail
Even the speed of sound can not reach it.
And you're standing there reading your paper last week.
Waiting for a miracle to happen
Your orange juice has already dried inside the glass
And nothing is left but the bitter memories left
Not even a good one of liquor would take away the bitterness that was in his tongue
In front of you is a tunnel, where the lights flash down
Like small fireflies in a deep cave
Listen to the noise of the rails that resonate with the symphony of the irons
See from afar the spark that jumps in the eyes of the curious
Who goes there?
Where does it come from?
It's just outsiders passing through our sights.
While you stand there, they pass by.
They thrive like ants in an anthill
They face the war every day
Battles lost, victorious, lonely, even cowards
The battle of each one
To have bread not to die of hunger
Be hungry for not die of bread
Have power make
So be
Be what you want
But do not stand there
Watching the train pass
Let this station rest from its circular steps
The steps you took around yourself
They took you nowhere.
You could have taken two rounds of the world.
And have known wonderful places
You could have met a lot more interesting people.
You could have stopped growing old.
More than you've aged
Do not give up, there's still time
Listen to the grunting of the rails
The black iron horse is passing by
At your station
Do not miss this train.
Throw away that old paper and that empty glass.
Just stretch your arm.
And he will stop for you.
Take off the knot of your tie
Breathe deeply
And have a good trip
Your life is passing you by now



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