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My Train of Thought
My train of thought
Seems to stop abrupt
Arrives at every single station
Fills to its capacity
And with a push and shove
Passengers unload
With a barrage of every other question
What shall I proceed, to be, asking myself
The "what's or when's or how's" and such
Only that they keep sending me off
Upon different tracks and derelict directions
Prolific is the search of further abstract actions
To thus, accumulate a weight of burden baggage
And never reaching in to hold any one conclusion
Or an absolute, as I near my paradoxal destination
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