Nine Times in Ten


It’s hard

  to stop a train.


A moving machine

  wholesome & clean;

metal on metal,

  a clankity-clang –


Nine times in ten

  and a-shambles again,

compared to 

  a stopping a train.



Of two aunts once left,



of the consaguine

  family & kin,

I’ll hang on along

  all alone on the throng –


“Who is this man,


What was his name?”



The past & the present 

  all meld in again.

a Clickety-clack,

  it all seems insane.



It’s too hard

  to stop 

a living machine.



Life’s not a game,

  though I once thought it did.


I chanced it the same;

  but then, as a kid.


Try as I may,

  Try as I might;

I gave up 

  a pretty good fight.


All once familiar,





I’m a new kid in town,

  and I’m new at this game.

Yet, somehow I see

  through all of this change,

I can’t stop

  nor won’t stop

a great mighty train.



Guess I’ll just hang

  to the end of the line.

Nine times in ten

  I’d do it again.



A Clickety-clack

  and a clackety-clang,

it’s to hard

  to stop an old train.






©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn

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