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Jun 2021
Maybe I was forgetful, maybe bored,
It's not a bad excuse or a refrain,
But in a station, totally ignored,  
I've bought a ticket for this woeful train.

In it, all kinds of people – neat, in rags...
Who try so hard their journey to complete,
With longing feelings, carrying many bags
And all competing for a better seat.

What strain, what spite, what anger, what a wail
What howls, what crying, what a silly pride,
What ugly words, what fighting on the rail,
For everybody wants to see outside.

I watch appalled this strange and foolish show
As if I'm at the theater, in the stalls,
And if I could, I'd do a trick to go,
Far, far away, beyond these lousy walls.

I wish the train would stop its crazy race
At the next station and to turn around,
So as to reach again the starting place,
But it is running forward like a hound.

I beg the fate to make a change somewhere
To move a switch, my state to be restored,
Because this train is heading to nowhere
And I am sorry that I got on board.
Octavian Cocos
Written by
Octavian Cocos  M/Bucharest, Romania
(M/Bucharest, Romania)   
94
 
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