Jack Growden - The Train

It's clear, place no doubt upon:
The moment we leave our mother's womb
We board the train en route to our tomb.
Riding the trip in different classes,
We all reach the same destination
Once the conductor clips our passes:
Beneath dirt, regardless of nation
For the train keeps rolling on
And cares little for faith or race -
Both trivial at our final place,
Just like questioning the journey's track
Because no matter how deep we yearn
We can only gaze longingly back
Without any option of return
For the train keeps rolling on.
So while our fate is, from the platform, sealed
And old destiny will never yield,
We can find solace in others aboard
Who ride with us upon many a wave
And make meaningful the lands explored
On the rails, from cradle to grave,
As the train keeps rolling on.

Jack Growden

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-train-28/