Under the overpass in a small town lies abandoned adolescence.
Cigarette butts and vivid graffiti shaded by the highway above.
How such rebellion hides among a quaint, clichéd town.
How such unsightliness plagues the innocent woods.
Under the overpass in a small town lies a set of abandoned railroad tracks.
A teenager broke their ankle on the metal rods buried under overgrown foliage.
Young lovers hike to settle under concrete barriers, Dodging fallen branches and hefty spider webs.
Under the overpass in a small town, a young couple swap kisses under roaring cars,
Far from privacy yet shielded from the world above, a place for just them.
Adrenaline pumping under their grimy sanctuary.
A butterfly lands on a discarded water bottle.
Beyond the overpass in a small town, trees and grass no longer grow.
The railroad extends endlessly, visible over coarse dirt. Nobody knows how it got there or when it ends,
A boundless hideaway succeeding a treacherous hike.
Two friends race each other and collapse in a pile of sweat and laughter.
