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Alex May 2020
Smoky train tracks run fast before my eyes.
To get on? To throw myself in it's
angry rampage? A mess for others, not me.
Instead I sit and watch the people board.

Nobody looks. I'm here but they never look.
Am I so bland? Or are they scared of me?
Repulsive man! Unshackle this young soul
so they notice my corpse, rotting slowly.

I scream but courtesy dictates
It remains trapped in my carriage.

— The End —