Central Time
The traveler from afar stood by his car,
wearing black in a field of stone.
He put a scoop of dirt in a jar
with tape on a lid labeled, “home.”
The ink on the tape smeared on his hand.
He was far from Central Time.
Hope abated and he became jaded,
as fear killed his childhood roots.
Favorite memories slowly faded
all he chased his dreams without a chute.
Frustration made him scream into the grave.
He was far from Central Time.
Is it really home if you feel alone
and all you believed in is a mirage?
Angry voices on the phone,
spreading fear that’s hard to dislodge.
Love was buried under a pile of lies.
He was far from Central Time
But he had a choice,
And still had a voice.
He could break the chain,
with love to wash away the pain.
Unconditional love heals your heart.
When you go home to Central Time.
But he had a choice,
And still had a voice.
He could break the chain,
with love to wash away the pain.
Healing isn’t hard to find, one hour behind.
When you go home to Central Time.