The metal pressing
Containing them all,
From all sides.
The windows fogging,
Water running down the sides,
Down the faces of the people
Talking in silence,
Nothing to say, yet saying everything.
Stop, the train.
Doors opening,
A gust of air,
Breathed in, gone.
On the train goes, on and on.
YOU ARE READING
impressions
PoetryI'm going through life experiencing existing and not so exiting, normal and extraordinary teenage stuff, so these are my impressions of the world around me.
