Life's Pot of Gold


 Gilded Age Locomotive, chugging and choking alongIgnorant of the outside world and corruption, singing its own rhythmic, mechanical songA destination and journey to fulfill,Uninformed and unconcerned with innocent blood spilled Rolling through the hills and mountains,A country by the locomotive's sideDetermination beaming, chugging and choking, creating its own tideNo obstacles to slow it down, as the locomotive continues onTrack after track, mile after mile,the locomotive rolls from the dark of night to the red skied gleam of dawn. Locomotive whistle blowing loud,A sign of everlasting consistency, attracting crowds, Approaching the station, filling people with thrillReaching its final location, model sized atop a child's window sill.  Scraped knees and busted lips,Aching bruises and blue jean rips,Hot summer days filled with sunshine and sweat, Boys colliding, basketballs through nets,A child's youth, energy, oh, what a question Trials and tribulations spell the end to many,Yet to the youth they are only a lesson. If you fall you get back up, no matter how big the cut, and continue to play, eternally throughout the day. Lessons are learned, toughness absorbed,Bike riding and tree climbing, challenges form a lust for more. As the pages of life turn, chapters are concluded, Risk taking, failing, then learning is unfortunately eluded.  Picking yourself up and continuing is essential to survival, The coming of man should not denounce its arrival,Fighting forward to continue on oneself no matter the circumstances, Is a sure fire way to better things, better chances The silver cotton balls littering the sky, give way to a braid of color,twinkling in one's eye.  Never giving up and setting a goal,is how you succeed, no matter the toll. The child and his train are representative of perseverance, As rain, sleet, snow, death, and famine could never damage their spirits.  

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