A Train of Thought

I sit in my seat dreaming of things.
The way smells and sights used to be more than minute flings.
I sat around placing them all.
Any noise or sight would cause them to fall.
I could hear the waves of laughter in my ears,
But there were no children to be found.
No lives reaching out for a pause,
No questions about it, the drowning of sound.
I still sit there dreaming,
Walking through a fog.
A mist that took away the reality I lived in,
Placing me in a world of wild scenes and songs.
I sang to myself, then along with the wild.
They seemed extra quiet today,
Even with mouths wide open to see them screaming,
They were pleasantly mild.
Yet I still begin to dream again,
Walking to another mystery,
I lost myself today,
No place known in history.
No maps for guidance,
No footprints to follow.
I was lost in my mind.
I was lost in the time.
To stop now was cruel,
But the radio came on,
This was the end of that song,
The end of that day was near,
And I had twelve other places to wallow.
Could this be sorrow?
Perhaps the question will be answered tomorrow.