Sewer Rats

Exactly the kind of vacant feeling associated with car dealerships.
Something you can't put your finger on, something not quite right;
like a grey sky with no hope of rain or sun.
And the mystery of railroads...
and the way you feel lifeless during winter,
surrounded by decaying deciduous trees.
You just want to go home, to summer,
to popsicles and sun tan lotion and waves,
and girls in bikinis and cars with no tops.
But mostly just the green, the green, the green.
Baseball diamonds forests dog trails graveyards backyards back doors screen doors locked doors open.
But for now, it's winter, and you can't quite put to words why you're so quiet,
and you can't quite explain why you cry when someone changes the radio station,
but it exists.
Just like you do, probably.
And just like I do,
probably.