IV

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Nowhere to go

Nothing to do

Sitting,Waiting

Silence.

A melancholy silhouette against a harsh metal sky.

But all you can do is lie

And watch the the sky cry out,

Pitter

Patter

Pit.

Rolling down your back, trickling into your boots,

overwhelming you, theres no way out, no other route.

When one question lingers

through the hysteric mess you call a brain,

whats sadder than a train standing in the rain?

______________
Stationary
a short poem
4/21/16

10:10 a.m.Where stories live. Discover now