I glanced over the side and stood on the yellow edge.
A light breeze and a light drizzle – cold, but I didn't mind.
Innocent were the days when we fought over nothing;
because the best happens before it really happens.
Of all the fates possible, it had to be this.
But of course I wasn't thinking at that moment; it was impulse.
I watched the Manhattan bound train pass by atleast 10 times;
and I glanced over the horizon just to keep up with the planes flying by.
Yet my Queens bound train had let me down again.
With all the patience I could muster, I sat for a while and watched the cold air fall.
Your words no longer oscillate my heart.
Instead they seem to slowly pass by me, just like the old lady that took her time walking.
Now I know that those days were sporadic ones.
Just like my train seems to be right now.