The train track of life begins with a bend

about a mound around which you can’t see.

Path bent around a hill called Calvary.

Ride rigid rails and then you’ll see the end.

First stop, the caboose, stick you in the rear.

The engine, your destined destination.

Start with nothing. Move station to station.

Claw up to the front to finally steer.

Yet, you find as you continue ahead,

your view on the view never does improve.

You find you barely managed to move.

Last stop, the caboose; rides over, you’re dead.

One rides the rails, forgets to see the track.

Who laid it? I want my fucking life back.