Sonnet 3 Poem by Alex Fischer

As I sit in my room thinking of life
A breeze blows through my window shut so tight
And blows the train ride off its very tracks
And carries it into a world of strife
The breeze takes the train into a great fright
The train flies off into a rock and cracks
It is destroyed now a pile of trash
Its journey has begun it is contrite
Why am I a disoriented lack
I cannot even think of a new dash
Why am I thinking of this sickly fate
I do not think that I can even track
This life that does not seem to give me flash
I think I feel death come, yet I am late