The Tracks We Leave Behind

A journey taken and an experience told with a pen. - Writer's Cramp Winner!

With a sure hit songwriter's pen in hand,
He carved out truth like lines in sand;
Every verse a vein of a life once bled,
A true story whispered, not quite dead.

I met him once on the streets of Baltimore,
Battered coat, guitar slung, soul worn raw.
He said, “You don’t write songs, son,
You bleed 'em. You breathe 'em. One by one.”

He told me, “I’ve got a thing about trains,”
And I saw it in his eyes; old scars, deep pain.
Not just engines, but escapes,
Iron backed dreams that left no trace.

He sang of a girl with calloused hands,
Who held him like the last of the promised lands.
They danced to static on the AM dial,
Then vanished; just tracks, no final mile.

“But the road don’t stop for hearts that break,
You gotta travel on, for your own damn sake,”
He whispered, more to ghosts than me,
As the city sighed its rusted plea.

He played a tune ‘bout leaving behind,
A father’s anger, a mother blind,
A bottle broken in a motel sink,
And that’s where truth begins to think.

He handed me the pen, calloused and worn,
Like passing fire from the bitter born.
“You tell it straight, with smoke and rain;
Don't lie if you’ve got a thing about trains.”

Now I write, like him, and feel the ache,
Each note a wound I can’t unmake.
And somewhere, still, on a dim lit lawn,
A song drifts on,
I gotta travel on.

Written for: "The Writer's Cramp" 

Prompt

Today is the birthday of country singer Bobby Bare Sr. 90 years ago, born in Ironton Ohio, he now resides in Nashville.
Reason for the mayor of Nashville to declare April 7 as Bobby Bare Day.

So: write a story or poem and use the following in your story or poem and bold it for tomorrow's judge:

sure hit songwriter's pen

true story

gotta travel on

the streets of Baltimore

I've got a thing about trains"