The Wheels Whisper Goodbye

Porcelain face to the grey cold sky. One burdened eye stares where the

tracks lie bare. The whistle's ghost is the final sigh. Empty arms

reaching through the chilling air. And the wheels just whisper goodbye, goodbye.

A forgotten promise, a mournful cry. Satin dressed on all the gravel

bed, while happy memories fill my head. Did

she forget me in her hurried maze? The warmth of her hands,

a faded trace. This lonely platform is my world now. Beneath the silent

weeping bough. The wheels still whisper goodbye, goodbye. The silent witness