Before the Train Comes

Before the Train Comes

Sipping a burning cup of coffee,

I watch as the rain lazily drips

From the roof on to the tracks.

People stay huddled together

In the platform, waiting to leave

But still, dreading to move.

As the next train reaches the platform,

The mad rush to climb in

Tears me away from my thoughts.

 

But the time which stretches proudly

After a train leaves and before another comes

Seems endless, and dauntingly full of possibilities.

As I wait, watching the hurry people are in,

Scampering with luggage and children,

Frustration marring their faces, 

I wonder why they were in such a hurry

That they missed out the thrill of waiting;

When you’re suspended between two worlds:

The one you will leave behind when your train comes.

 

I sit and wait, knowing my train was never going to arrive

And yet, sensing the tracks vibrating in anticipation of the next train,

I look up, desperately hoping it would take me away from this place.

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9 thoughts on “Before the Train Comes

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