We make a decision to fight an UN-winnable fight; never considering those we affect by our decision.
Sometime prior to 2009 a white bronco set on some railway tracks in California one morning during a commute. The train hit the bronco. I don't know the reasons why, only that it affected me greatly while listening to the news. I wrote the poem that will follow this intro.
You CAN NOT win a fight against a train and you can never know what damage you do to others by choosing to be in the line of fire.
It is such a lonesome sound the wheels on the track and the forlorn wail of the whistle warning "here I come, please stay clear"
Does a ten ton train, running at 35 miles per hour have a heart or soul?
No! However, the driver pulling the whistle cord, making that wailing sound of warning will remember until they die their inability to save the day.
If lucky the engineer will die in the crash, knowing that they did all that was possible to save the passengers of the train as well as the fool parked on the tracks.
But ~!~ They usually survive to wonder what more could have been done.
A little voice tells them they did all that they could have, but the wonder, the regret, and the fear of the accident will live forever in their memories, just under the surface ready to squeeze the mind of its last bit of sanity with only a passing thought.
A lifetime spent wishing they had not been on that run, that they had called in sick, letting someone else take their place. They tell everyone who asks that they are okay, yet they watch closely for the next fool trying to win that UN-winnable fight.....
\What a mournful sound, the wheels on the rails and the whistle screaming
"HERE I COME, PLEASE PLEASE STAY CLEAR".....
Photo Credit For Gloves