The Easy Outs And The Easy Ins Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Every day is an empty highway
Made for things that flash and die,
And that sun goes leaping through the skyway,
But never wonder why-
That I should look at you so pitifully,
Drinking those songs that I want to never
End,
But you just go passing by me, kissing those
Lips of your more beautiful friends-
That the traffic continues,
That the undying brigades should never sleep:
That the dogs remember:
That the dogs should weep,
And you go continuing with your toy chest
Of friends,
All the easy ways that you know,
The easy outs and the easy ins.