Letters To Inmates

it seems like every time i happen past, you've tied yourself to the tracks again. and every time i untie you, just to find you there the next time i walk by the railroad. i don't know your name, but i know your face so well-never quite as afraid as you should be. what would happen if one of these days i didn't come by in time? you should be scared witless. but you're not. why is that? i wonder. do you not fear an untimely demise? or are you just that confident in my ability to save you? you should never have more confidence in someone's ability to help you than they have in themselves. they might let you down. but you don't seem to worry about that. i want that fearlessness. that trust. that ability to be completely carefree, even while tied to the tracks of life. so next time i wander by the railroad and find that you've tied yourself down once more, i think i'll pull out some rope and lie down beside you. teach me the true meaning of coming to terms with life. teach me what you know, my railroad track friend.