finding graves
counting all the people who were slaves
never knowing when the end will come
hitching a ride with my corporate thumb
wondering where the road will lead
trying not to bleed
out the hole in my heart
there's never an easy way to restart
and no way to avoid the fall
no one to reach me when i call
an engine noise metallic with spinning gears
the grinding sound as it nears
around the bend and on the long straightaway
gathering speed with nothing new to say
blowing past in a swirl of dust
challenging me to move aside if i must
finding graves
counting all the people who were slaves
never knowing when the end will come
hitching a ride with my corporate thumb
wondering where the road will lead
trying not to bleed
out the hole in my heart.
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