The tannoy echoes familiarity,
Strain your ears to hear-
The friendly, calming, dulcet tones,
"This train does not stop here".
Deep breath, breathe in-
Watch the clock, look at the time.
Your toes touch the yellowy edge,
The platform is coated in grime.
You take the train every morning.
You stand the side "London bound".
You know the timetable by heart-
Hallowed train-station ground.
But watch the people around you,
As your heart hammers hard.
"Railway fatality" doesn't capture the reality
of an image that has left you scarred.
The train trashed breeze whispers nothing.
Behold, the yellow line.
Stand back, watch that-
The crowds stand close but fine.
This train, you've heard it before,
A million journeys done.
Squeaky wheels, "Stand clear of the doors"
A step and you become one.
YOU ARE READING
Fleece
PoetryA Poetry Collection I have been experiementing with poetry the last year! The first few pieces are my earlier work, and it does get better the more recent the chapter. Enjoy!
