The Train

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by goodforcatfish08, Jan 4, 2009.

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  1. The train approaches
    the boarders pick up their groceries,
    tired after a day of work.
    the light, dim at first, growing
    brighter by the second, a shrill whistle
    blasts, interrupting my daydream
    as I sit, complacently sit at the bench
    made of metal-
    the whole world a piece of steel
    marred only by pieces of plastic, I wonder
    if the people are metal as well, their hearts,
    cold and hard, faces eternally set to indifference
    to protect themselves from pain.
    but the train,
    it rolls on, zipping along in this modern world
    heading to whereabouts unknown, calmly, smoothly,
    no emotions, just cool efficiently
    rolling down the track.
    The train- it pulls into view
    a sleek grey piece of machinery,
    just like everyone else.
    a faceless conductor, urgent and impatient
    blows the horn-two sharp blast that wake me
    from my dream, watching
    the business men, with their ties and cards
    the women with dresses and children
    odd that there is no sound
    but the low idle of the train.
    I suddenly don’t want to get on
    I am afraid of it, that thing,
    I turn to run, people all around, glassy-eyed,
    ignoring, stampeding, eager to be
    home to there TV’s.
    Running, all I see is lights,
    flashing by as I break for freedom
    impeded by the crowd,
    a mass of bodies pushing
    single-mindedly pushing, irreversibly forward
    on their meaningless tasks.
    caught like a fly in a web,
    pulled towards the open mouth of the train.
    I cry out in fear, struggling, fighting
    at the door, an open-mouthed beast,
    the conductor, a hat and a body
    laughing, and laughing, then asking

    “What’s the matter little guy?
    Never been on a train before?”

    Laughter all around.
    But I hear no sound.
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