I follow the railroads on you skin. The patches of dark that lead me to foreign land, the fields of soft hairs at the back of your neck, the hills of your knuckles, the beached sand on you jaw. I am taken to nowhere.
I am lost across you.
Catfish
there’s railroad tracks near my house. when i was younger i used to walk up and down them and think. think and talk to God. i used to wonder what in the world was at the end of those tracks. where i would end up if i just kept walking. just walked and never looked back.
Kaitlyn Bradley
Dark images float nearby,
a memory distorted.
Moments of you that I haven’t seen,
What made you make such a rash decision?
Closed eyes, frozen still
What are you doing there?
Dark images float nearby,
a decision made too quick.
What is so horrible that can’t be fixed?
Moments of you that I will never see.
The sounds of that train chugs around,
it touches your flesh,
your eyes closed, your body still.
Moments of your darkest hour
that I don’t want to meet.
Rash decisions are never good.
The world still turns,
but a piece is lost.
Moments of you that I wish I remembered,
Moments of us when I was till naive.
So dark images float nearby.
Not the conclusions you imagined,
nothing you can do.
the railroad tracks stretch across the valley. Taking me to one part of the world to another.
jason
One time I hopped on a a moving rail car and was yelled at by an old man because he thought I was a “crazy kid”
Keri
theres a railroad and ia train coming you dont know where this train will take you inception beautiful girls black people hobos beautiful twenties actress hair and stumbleupon computers bandaid oranges i hate everything orange flavored and chips are bad for you!
Savannah Bruno
there was once a railroad in the middle of a city. Trains came and went across it frequently, but people rarely thought about how important it was. No one maintained it or cared for it, and so it slowly fell into a state of disrepair.
Lydia
Umm…I already got this one. What kind of operation is this, oneword? Seems to me like a scam. Or maybe there is literally only word: railroad. Pretty clever…
Daniel
The end of the line is right ahead. The trains are places of danger and opportunity. Days ago I met the man i will love for the rest of my life at the station. I have not told him yet; i will probably never tell anyone. We could never be, and that makes my heart hurt. The railroad is a place to be carried away from where you are and were and to end the world.
Erin
Railroads are a rather uninteresting bunch. No suspense or threat of taking a wrong turn (literally). I most associate them with tycoons. That and Thomas the Train.
Daniel
She lays the smooth track pieces out
around the bed leg, the rug edge, the yellow pony
We’ve raised our voice, one to cheer and
twice to curse, so she busies herself with rail
The blue train, a plain tube shaped to us,
but enough character to be christened Thomas by her
grinds along the curve, the nail wobbling to the speed
And I see the last piece, just before
Thomas gets there, and kick it
to an unsensing hand,
a grooved and wooden peace offering
Railroads can be scary. People die all teh time on them. Once there was movie with some teens walking down a railroad track and at the end they found their best friend dead. I lol’d and went to play soccer afterward. Movie greatly recommended.
T. S. Elliot
I tip-toe on the rails and lose my balance. The railroad seems infinite, unlimited, sinking into the horizon into an unknown world of fantasy. Where does the road lead? Where does the train bring its passenger? I walk so slowly, yet a whistling train zooms by in one second. My destination is so far away.
On her way to school, she always walked along the old rails so, one day, she decided to find out where they’d lead to and why they weren’t used. She skipped school that day.
Because she had come to a crossroads. In all of her days, in all of her glory, she never thought it would have come to this; a Spanish speaking maid and a bowl full of colored sponges. “Get out of my house,” she said. “You’re not allowed to eat any more of my watermelons.”
I love to travel by railroad, to see other places and venues and, in best case, get out somewhere close to the sea…trees and houses are passing by and I feel complete.
oh shoot i need to write about a railroad? well, I know that it’s not always safe near the tracks.
i met someone recently that jumped trains. it was my new hairdresser. that was interesting. he’s from philly, too. well, he lived there for 2 years. hmm, the railroad. different than flying.
I was walking down the dirt road and came upon a railroad track. It was near evening and I was alone; walking like a drifter with no real place to call home. I knew I would be spending the night next to this railroad; listening to the trains roll by and the earth shake uncontrollably. I love the sound of the train.
Ocala
i was standing tnear the railroad, waiting for the train to come. i would end my life this way. it was meant to be like this. no-one would be able to stop me. soon, i would feel the vibrations shuddering up through my feet.
Her four inch, teal heels made her angles feel like fragile porcelain rods as she stumbled along the railroad tracks. A purse dangled from her fingers, a bottle of whiskey from the other.
Out of her mouth came the words, “if there’s anything that you want…”
trains. all i think is trains trains go fast like life.. way too fast.. you cant stop it.. they just keep going and going and going and going and going and going… like life.. yup.. like life.
andrea
I grew up by the railroad.
The town’s bordered by them.
When I was playing in the park
out back behind my house
and I would hear a train coming
I always got so scared
and would run into the house crying,
thinking it was going to take me away.
Ali G.
I’m not really sure what the heck this is, but it appears that there is a timer down there. I don’t know if my laptop is going to blow up when my time is up or what. For some reason it wants me to log in, but I don’t have any user information to give it. Looks like I don’t really need that anyway. Ops, looks like time’s about up.
ellen
it was a long trip. the railroad was from nowhere to nowhere. and the train was still full. nobody cared about anybody, but i did. i wanted to know. i just woke up here. from the train i take everyday from home to work and back. what happened?
Dee
There was a railroad. it was dark and empty. A girl passed through it and she was crying. She jumped over the railroad and she cried out loud she loves life. She was waiting for a train, their train. Neither the train or him would come, only death
Julia
.
d.
train tracks on the hills and a large train coming down it almost hitting a person. It cares for nothing in its way and keeps going until the tracks stop. Out from the train comes a conductor and starts to build onto the end of the tracks so that he can keep moving.
garrett
a raildoad is where trains go on
juliana
I always think of those evil, one dimensional, cackling villains when I see these. Corny and campy as they were. When I was a child, it was so easy to define right and wrong.
Ant
railroad’s are for trains. They help trade material goods and are a way to travel for people. In the older times, to travel by train was a luxury, wheread nowadays travelling by train is more by necessity and not by luxury. Railroads were invented by the english, which helped their industry grow enormously.
raina
AHHH! I’m tied to the railroad! Someone Help MEE!
This is hopeless, no one is ever going to hear me out here in the middle of no where. I am dooomed. I wish the train would just come already so i wouldnt be sitting in anticipation. I think i just need to get my mind off of things, so why dont I tell you the story of how this all happened.
It all started when I missed the bus one wednesday morning. I had woke up late because my best friend had kept me up all night.
mikayla
i pick my feet wheneverross them n a car, its a thing me and my mom do out of superstition.
rachel
I come to a crossing, and it suspends me. In the middle, stuck there, I pack up my soul, and I wait in the rain. I reflect in the drip-drop of solitude upon you, and me, and everything, and what it was that we had, and all that I lost, and everything I gained without you, in that drip-drop of time. It’s not anything you know, it’s not anything you’ll ever need to know, but I’m stuck at this crossing, the bar is down, lights are flashing in my mind, and the sounds scream louder than anything discernible or sensical, words cannot be formulated by the feelings that flow in those sound waves. You’re over across those tracks, and I’m held fast here, with everything I’ve ever known, this confinement and curiosity kill me, but they lull me to the sweet dreams of what I’ve known as sanity, and you thrill at the chase, our last short embrace; you throw it back into my face when I don’t return your call. It was mutual, but is this mutual? This need to bridge the gap? I don’t know if it’ll be structurally sound, and the rickets will tangle the thickets of best self-interest in my mind, but do you feel it too? Spell it out, across the tracks, post a sign upon your back, because these sounds are screaming in my bones, and I cannot comprehend any form of communication with you other than feel, but at least let’s try. Extend a hand, don’t let fate fly.
Kenzie
trains are awsome things driving around cargo and engineers from places like san francisco to zimbabwe for no other reason thatn snow flakes flying high in the sky in the end.
f
railroad tracks are a boring metaphor for life. When I reach the end of of my life, I wont be at the end of the tracks. I’ll be in Bournemouth.
Dean Brooks
Blues and hobos and the nation’s commerce are carried on the back of these railroad tracks.
we cut across the railroad tracks, skipping along the metal rails and wooden boards. beyond lay the woods, dark and deep and full of promise, but still, we lingered along the tracks for a few minutes more, hoping for the rush and thrill of the train.
There, she walked along the railroad. It was raining, and her dark umbrella opened into a canopy above her. Sorrows trailed behind her; a new one with every step she took. She had no idea where she was going. A sound blared in the distance. It came closer, and closer, and closer, even more closer. Closer still, until she was staring at a locomotive moving fast torwards her. She didn’t even bat an eye at it. She kept walking forward, and she soon was destined to hit it. Surely with the next step, her life would end. . .
She woke up, drenched in sweat and stared out her window only to watch the motion of a passing train.
Sarah
There it is. Right in front of me… The railroad. Dare I cross it, crossing all the invisible boundaries i’ve set for myself? Dare i go into that part of town? I know their hatred for me, know the feeling of “you aren’t welcome here”. How can i not care?
juliapop
One day, a girl was sitting on a railroad. Things, in her life, had not been going to smoothy as of late. Away, with her backpack with her most beloved things, pondered over which way she could take. West held the ocean, the freedom, California.
I follow the railroads on you skin. The patches of dark that lead me to foreign land, the fields of soft hairs at the back of your neck, the hills of your knuckles, the beached sand on you jaw. I am taken to nowhere.
I am lost across you.
there’s railroad tracks near my house. when i was younger i used to walk up and down them and think. think and talk to God. i used to wonder what in the world was at the end of those tracks. where i would end up if i just kept walking. just walked and never looked back.
Dark images float nearby,
a memory distorted.
Moments of you that I haven’t seen,
What made you make such a rash decision?
Closed eyes, frozen still
What are you doing there?
Dark images float nearby,
a decision made too quick.
What is so horrible that can’t be fixed?
Moments of you that I will never see.
The sounds of that train chugs around,
it touches your flesh,
your eyes closed, your body still.
Moments of your darkest hour
that I don’t want to meet.
Rash decisions are never good.
The world still turns,
but a piece is lost.
Moments of you that I wish I remembered,
Moments of us when I was till naive.
So dark images float nearby.
Not the conclusions you imagined,
nothing you can do.
the railroad tracks stretch across the valley. Taking me to one part of the world to another.
One time I hopped on a a moving rail car and was yelled at by an old man because he thought I was a “crazy kid”
theres a railroad and ia train coming you dont know where this train will take you inception beautiful girls black people hobos beautiful twenties actress hair and stumbleupon computers bandaid oranges i hate everything orange flavored and chips are bad for you!
there was once a railroad in the middle of a city. Trains came and went across it frequently, but people rarely thought about how important it was. No one maintained it or cared for it, and so it slowly fell into a state of disrepair.
Umm…I already got this one. What kind of operation is this, oneword? Seems to me like a scam. Or maybe there is literally only word: railroad. Pretty clever…
The end of the line is right ahead. The trains are places of danger and opportunity. Days ago I met the man i will love for the rest of my life at the station. I have not told him yet; i will probably never tell anyone. We could never be, and that makes my heart hurt. The railroad is a place to be carried away from where you are and were and to end the world.
Railroads are a rather uninteresting bunch. No suspense or threat of taking a wrong turn (literally). I most associate them with tycoons. That and Thomas the Train.
She lays the smooth track pieces out
around the bed leg, the rug edge, the yellow pony
We’ve raised our voice, one to cheer and
twice to curse, so she busies herself with rail
The blue train, a plain tube shaped to us,
but enough character to be christened Thomas by her
grinds along the curve, the nail wobbling to the speed
And I see the last piece, just before
Thomas gets there, and kick it
to an unsensing hand,
a grooved and wooden peace offering
Railroads can be scary. People die all teh time on them. Once there was movie with some teens walking down a railroad track and at the end they found their best friend dead. I lol’d and went to play soccer afterward. Movie greatly recommended.
I tip-toe on the rails and lose my balance. The railroad seems infinite, unlimited, sinking into the horizon into an unknown world of fantasy. Where does the road lead? Where does the train bring its passenger? I walk so slowly, yet a whistling train zooms by in one second. My destination is so far away.
On her way to school, she always walked along the old rails so, one day, she decided to find out where they’d lead to and why they weren’t used. She skipped school that day.
Because she had come to a crossroads. In all of her days, in all of her glory, she never thought it would have come to this; a Spanish speaking maid and a bowl full of colored sponges. “Get out of my house,” she said. “You’re not allowed to eat any more of my watermelons.”
I love to travel by railroad, to see other places and venues and, in best case, get out somewhere close to the sea…trees and houses are passing by and I feel complete.
oh shoot i need to write about a railroad? well, I know that it’s not always safe near the tracks.
i met someone recently that jumped trains. it was my new hairdresser. that was interesting. he’s from philly, too. well, he lived there for 2 years. hmm, the railroad. different than flying.
I was walking down the dirt road and came upon a railroad track. It was near evening and I was alone; walking like a drifter with no real place to call home. I knew I would be spending the night next to this railroad; listening to the trains roll by and the earth shake uncontrollably. I love the sound of the train.
i was standing tnear the railroad, waiting for the train to come. i would end my life this way. it was meant to be like this. no-one would be able to stop me. soon, i would feel the vibrations shuddering up through my feet.
Her four inch, teal heels made her angles feel like fragile porcelain rods as she stumbled along the railroad tracks. A purse dangled from her fingers, a bottle of whiskey from the other.
Out of her mouth came the words, “if there’s anything that you want…”
trains. all i think is trains trains go fast like life.. way too fast.. you cant stop it.. they just keep going and going and going and going and going and going… like life.. yup.. like life.
I grew up by the railroad.
The town’s bordered by them.
When I was playing in the park
out back behind my house
and I would hear a train coming
I always got so scared
and would run into the house crying,
thinking it was going to take me away.
I’m not really sure what the heck this is, but it appears that there is a timer down there. I don’t know if my laptop is going to blow up when my time is up or what. For some reason it wants me to log in, but I don’t have any user information to give it. Looks like I don’t really need that anyway. Ops, looks like time’s about up.
it was a long trip. the railroad was from nowhere to nowhere. and the train was still full. nobody cared about anybody, but i did. i wanted to know. i just woke up here. from the train i take everyday from home to work and back. what happened?
There was a railroad. it was dark and empty. A girl passed through it and she was crying. She jumped over the railroad and she cried out loud she loves life. She was waiting for a train, their train. Neither the train or him would come, only death
.
train tracks on the hills and a large train coming down it almost hitting a person. It cares for nothing in its way and keeps going until the tracks stop. Out from the train comes a conductor and starts to build onto the end of the tracks so that he can keep moving.
a raildoad is where trains go on
I always think of those evil, one dimensional, cackling villains when I see these. Corny and campy as they were. When I was a child, it was so easy to define right and wrong.
railroad’s are for trains. They help trade material goods and are a way to travel for people. In the older times, to travel by train was a luxury, wheread nowadays travelling by train is more by necessity and not by luxury. Railroads were invented by the english, which helped their industry grow enormously.
AHHH! I’m tied to the railroad! Someone Help MEE!
This is hopeless, no one is ever going to hear me out here in the middle of no where. I am dooomed. I wish the train would just come already so i wouldnt be sitting in anticipation. I think i just need to get my mind off of things, so why dont I tell you the story of how this all happened.
It all started when I missed the bus one wednesday morning. I had woke up late because my best friend had kept me up all night.
i pick my feet wheneverross them n a car, its a thing me and my mom do out of superstition.
I come to a crossing, and it suspends me. In the middle, stuck there, I pack up my soul, and I wait in the rain. I reflect in the drip-drop of solitude upon you, and me, and everything, and what it was that we had, and all that I lost, and everything I gained without you, in that drip-drop of time. It’s not anything you know, it’s not anything you’ll ever need to know, but I’m stuck at this crossing, the bar is down, lights are flashing in my mind, and the sounds scream louder than anything discernible or sensical, words cannot be formulated by the feelings that flow in those sound waves. You’re over across those tracks, and I’m held fast here, with everything I’ve ever known, this confinement and curiosity kill me, but they lull me to the sweet dreams of what I’ve known as sanity, and you thrill at the chase, our last short embrace; you throw it back into my face when I don’t return your call. It was mutual, but is this mutual? This need to bridge the gap? I don’t know if it’ll be structurally sound, and the rickets will tangle the thickets of best self-interest in my mind, but do you feel it too? Spell it out, across the tracks, post a sign upon your back, because these sounds are screaming in my bones, and I cannot comprehend any form of communication with you other than feel, but at least let’s try. Extend a hand, don’t let fate fly.
trains are awsome things driving around cargo and engineers from places like san francisco to zimbabwe for no other reason thatn snow flakes flying high in the sky in the end.
railroad tracks are a boring metaphor for life. When I reach the end of of my life, I wont be at the end of the tracks. I’ll be in Bournemouth.
Blues and hobos and the nation’s commerce are carried on the back of these railroad tracks.
we cut across the railroad tracks, skipping along the metal rails and wooden boards. beyond lay the woods, dark and deep and full of promise, but still, we lingered along the tracks for a few minutes more, hoping for the rush and thrill of the train.
There, she walked along the railroad. It was raining, and her dark umbrella opened into a canopy above her. Sorrows trailed behind her; a new one with every step she took. She had no idea where she was going. A sound blared in the distance. It came closer, and closer, and closer, even more closer. Closer still, until she was staring at a locomotive moving fast torwards her. She didn’t even bat an eye at it. She kept walking forward, and she soon was destined to hit it. Surely with the next step, her life would end. . .
She woke up, drenched in sweat and stared out her window only to watch the motion of a passing train.
There it is. Right in front of me… The railroad. Dare I cross it, crossing all the invisible boundaries i’ve set for myself? Dare i go into that part of town? I know their hatred for me, know the feeling of “you aren’t welcome here”. How can i not care?
One day, a girl was sitting on a railroad. Things, in her life, had not been going to smoothy as of late. Away, with her backpack with her most beloved things, pondered over which way she could take. West held the ocean, the freedom, California.