The trains cry out in the lonely hours of the night.
Their sirens beckoning, awakening me from my stupor and teasing that I'm still alive.
How unfortunate to be reminded that life continues with out me.
How self-centered to feel like I should be a part of it.
Shaping lifestyles and decisions based on sound waves.
Hiding between headphones, I escape to experiences that aren't mine.
What happened?
-Grace
August 2012
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 3:07 AM UTC
The trains cry out in the lonely hours of the night.
Their sirens beckoning, awakening me from my stupor and teasing that I'm still alive.
How unfortunate to be reminded that life continues with out me.
How self-centered to feel like I should be a part of it.
Shaping lifestyles and decisions based on sound waves.
Hiding between headphones, I escape to experiences that aren't mine.
What happened?
-Grace
August 2012
Request permission to use this poem