Graffiti On A Freight Train

Graffiti on a freight train . Cigar butts in the storm drain . A lady in the cold rain. Drinking whiskey for her pain . She does not see a friendly face . She just needs a resting place . Once she dreamed of silk and lace . All she found was lead and mace . A cold beer sign across the highway . She wonders how far she walked today . How many prayers did she say ? She wishes she was a kid barefoot in the clay . Then she spots a familiar taxi cab , and remembers a guy she met in rehab . He could hook her up . That would be fab , but she can't take that stab . She walks on by another mile or two . To a little church and sits on a pew . And in her mind storm clouds brew . Then a voice asks do I know you ? She looks up to see a long lost face . One she can't seem to place . He says don't you remember me Grace ? I once offered you silk and lace . Oh ! God the wedding dress . I had forgotten she confessed . Back when I was not such a mess . Back when I was blessed . He sits down and they begin to talk . He says he wanted marriage . Why did you balk ? She says it was not your fault . He asked her where she is going ? She says she is unknowing . Just where ever the wind is blowing . Then his words started flowing . Graffiti on a freight train . She wrote something about an old flame . Burning away her old pain . Giving her refrain . By Lawrence W. Smith . 4 /2/18