A Better Game
You failed to have me believe in nothing,
not that you really tried
to show me through your philosophy
why every faith had died.
I address my lines to my old teachers
in the last century
when I lived through my childhood and my youth,
and sought ways to be free.
If things were different, at least not the same,
we could sit at a table and play a better game,
make its rules more reasonable,
and give it a decent name.
A train has a lonely whistle,
way out on the track,
far from any station,
the signalman has no answer back.
A ship has a silent anchor,
somewhere in the deep,
not even the captain
can answer what the sea asks in sleep.
A race is won by the finest sprinter,
the best skin and bone,
no one knows the losers,
they cannot decipher the unknown.
A bell has a final echo.