Train

We rode out and watched the world pass by.
Trees weeping gently in a summer rain.
It always rained in Ireland no matter the season.
There is an honesty in love, a simplicity much missing from today’s world.
But we were harder then more open to the knocks and falls
so unlike those that came after.
We found our own ballast, our own strength.
Ma, Da, my brother and me, on a train
before the fall.
It is only now I realise that love is more important than all,
than all the pain you build up in your heart,
so today I’m going to worship at her altar
I’m going to go ride that train and find myself at the start.

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