The Little Train That Can’t

 

The Little Train That Can’t
by Raederle Phoenix
2005: Junior Year

I write rants.

I hate pants.

I eat plants.

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t...

I can’t let you know what’s on my mind.

I can’t let you glow, that’s my find.

I can’t let... I can’t...

I’m not the little train that could.

I’m the little train that would.

I’m the little train that should.

I’m the little girl who didn’t.

I’m the whirl that sweeps me down.

I’m the girl that fell to the ground.

I’ve left without swirl or sound.

I’m not a square, I’m quite round.

I’m in this dare to be found.

You can’t find me,

You can’t relate to me...

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t...

You’re the little quirk that said it.

You’re the little squirt that did this.

You’re the cold one with an dark kiss.

I can’t... I won’t... You can’t...

You can’t leave me tonight.

I won’t leave without a fight.

I can’t make you see this right.

I think I should,

I think I would,

I think I can’t,

I think I can’t...

I know I can’t.

I know I can’t.

I know I can’t,

but I think we could.

— Raederle Phoenix

2005

© 2005 Raederle Phoenix West. Some Rights Reserved.

This poem is the original work of Raederle Phoenix West. 

You may share them digitally for non-commercial purposes, 

as long as full credit is given and the text remains unaltered. 

Any commercial use, performance, or adaptation requires written permission.

Note: Like my other poetry from 2005, I was sixteen at the time. This was partly inspired by my second love, but it was more a general expression that there was magic in togetherness – that believing in oneself was insufficient to achieve all that I wanted. Looking back (in 2025), I can see the beginning threads of much more sophisticated thoughts I expressed much later in essays on community.