We piled inside the small compact car smelling like Vodka, sweat, and good times.

Someone yelled ‘Let’s take Marta.’ After all, it’s smarter. Well, it’s just we all had been drinking.  Summer was approaching and there was a sudden silence in the air, you knew what everyone was thinking.

Ralph was such a good guy is what we all seemed to pray.  He was one exit from home on that fateful day.

With a driven purpose in mind we walked towards the next arriving Blue Line.  It’d be ten minutes or so before the next rail was set to arrive.  Under the influence it seemed like forever.  In the meantime, we’d admire a smoke and a share a few thoughts of laughter.  Philips Arena, Five Points… Georgia State soon after.  We waited along with a few others in the morning dim.  There were no panhandlers in sight, it must have been too early for them.  That’s what Greg joked but I saw truth in that.  I was almost at a dose when I felt a sprinkle of inspiration in fact.  Awakening was the rail’s brakes and images of flying sparks.  The old woman sitting by the young lady I met tonight both got off at Inman Park.  Those other guys I believe were migrating West.  I thought to myself, ‘Marta is Smarter’, even they know what’s best.  The conductor insisted Edgewood/Candler would be coming up next.  I looked around and there weren’t a familiar face left other than one guy from  yesterday’s game.   By the time we reached Decatur I had forgotten his name.  On similar paths we travel some of our minds lose tract. Then I saw my reflection realizing I am a man of my own and fully understand maps.  Have been for awhile now and soloist decisions have become the norm.  Through many roads I’ve traveled while weathering the storm.   Further I’ve gone, but nowhere near home.  Then I see through their eyes.  Faces show smiles and in hearts true gloom.  Or perhaps, maybe I’ve gone too far as a train passes flashing, ‘No, we were all born to be stars, some just get off to soon.’