(copyright 1998, James S. Hagen) Only the darkest night and the brightest day can be my friend. (Who's to say?) "I'm here, I'M HERE!"
They used me, excessively at times, without a second thought, for miles and miles. I did my duty, I served a purpose, though the times have changed. Once the standard, I no longer measure up.
A new era came while I slept, never to awaken again. I'm here, I'M ALIVE! As they pass arrogantly without a glance or second thought or knowledge of my existance. I'm cold, oil stained, crowned and course.
Near Keenbrook I'm half dead, tree impaled I have bled. Few see me and fewer care. Those who know of me know of better times in my days of glory, where the sunshine was pleasant.
The mile markers have long been gone and my stripes are so faded. The ol' weigh station and cafe lay in ruins, only serenity is my keeper and the eucalyptus oversees my blyte.
Come to me and you will see the lonliness I endure, decade after decade, only time will prevail. Am I a ghost, did I exist, only did I in the darkest halls of history - (was this a mystery or am I a myth?)
I am a forgotten relic only known to the elders.
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