Last Stops

Forward only, never back -
For that's the track, the direction, the tack.
A hundred analogies, a thousand words to say,
Tomorrow will be better, the sun will shine, you'll play.
Intention is there, empty the words, devoid care.
Comfort the speaker, pain ravaged, nothing spared.
Travel along, fight on, continue despite no peace,
The line continues, the others ahead, distances increase.
A sea of faces awash with the million expressions of shame,
Looking for reasons, an event, another to blame.
Reflections in smudged glass, as the world rushes by,
A glimpse of outside, and a destination unarrived.
Surrounded by a world, a dimension, finger tips outreached,
Feeling the possibility, the warmth, wall left unbreached.

Never back, only forward -
A false dichotomy, sold to the masses, to strike a chord.
Drive a direction of mind and action, a meaning,
In a mindless march on, toward an invisible ceiling.
The journey is a spectrum, with no end to meet,
No matter how far travelled, unravelled, or number of seat.
The engine powers on, the strong at the fore,
Not pulling together but pushed, by the weak and the poor.
No choice is given, other than drive and to strive,
Yet existing for all, wealthed or deprived.
More than two ways, more options abound,
Instead of ahead or behind, to the side can be found.
Move along forward, or look far into the past.
Or get off and stay, to stop at the last.