A Ballad About A Caboose

Out of pure necessity she takes her place at last,
Now she’s blind and cannot see the path down which she’s led.
An iron link, a jerk in front, and soon she’s moving fast.
And all the while she’s hoping for a chance to get ahead.

As the years go by, our lady starts to see the light.
The way is fixed and narrow, the classic journey long.
Her vision is extended by the grace to see her plight,
But she’s altered to the marrow from the years of suffering wrong.

The days are long and hard for sure; she won’t deny the pain.
The trip will all be worth it, though she still can’t see just how.
Her faith has caused her to endure, she labors not in vain,
But smiling says, “ I wouldn’t take nothin’ for my journey now.”

A little boy said, “Grampa, let’s go watch the train again.”
He loved the little caboose and always waved as she went by.
But this time there was nothing where her place had always been.
My Grampa said, “They finally let her go.”  And I cried, “Why?”

You know we’d grown accustomed to her being at the end.
And though the purpose for it must remain a mystery,
I just can’t help but wonder what became of my old friend.
May she be blessed with peace and rest, and a place in history.