The Dichotomy of Living

I’ve seen the wind blow the tall grasses, the cornstalks too.
It’s peaceful there with the sun setting, but soon I grow antsy.
I want to see tall buildings and see the faces of different people.
I’ve heard the train whistle at anyone nearby, telling them to not come close.
The reality is hardly anyone is around and those that are, it’s way too loud.
I wonder what’s being stored in those containers.
Nobody could survive for that long in milk.
This isn’t The Handmaid’s Tale, but I want assurances even if it’s not real.
I’ve seen most everyone, observant and pleasant, holding the door open.
I want peace and quiet but not too much.
I’m not supposed to be thinking these thoughts.
It’s not the same thing as the car that has the imitation train whistle.
The train had a reason to be so loud. The car does not.
He thinks he wrote the check for the road he’s driving so he honks.
If you’re not going fast enough, he honks even louder.
I’ve smelled rain and seen lightning with no thunder.
I wonder if there’s a middle in between skyscrapers and barns.
If small town isn’t right for me, neither is overpopulated city at times.
It’s peaceful here with the clacking of the keys, but soon it won’t be.
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