Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2017
Faces in a row wait to begin the daily commute.
Sat aboard we bow our heads to handheld binary,
ignoring the large screen TVs on adjacent walls.
They broadcast another repeat of moving scenery.

We sit with thumb in repetition; we know the story,
it was yesterdays.
But the curiosity to which we serve fails to resist;
a craving for the pictorial record of a faux friend’s breakfast.

Lonely subjects completely surrounded by people.
Yet we hide – validating ourselves as socialites by algorithms of technology.
We sit, hoping to avoid a mundane clone of yesterday,
but facilitate it with various levels of hope for a change of train and better journey.

We’d know the grass isn’t greener on the other train’s TV,
if we looked up to see it.
Appreciate today’s episode, supply a faint smile to another, chat without a digit,
we may yet remedy our hope.
Written by
D Holden  M/UK
   Glass and TSPoetry
Please log in to view and add comments on poems