On a train people sit in their seats
Normally
But I can’t help but shout and squeeze at the demise of myself
Maybe I see what they can’t see naturally
That’s the opposite of what is in these boxes
You, 10, 20, 30 people then me
Those who look ordinary
and they’re all trying to get somewhere
and it’s humane for them
But I can’t take this anxiety
This is what the cattle cars must’ve felt like
I’m on my way home
So yes, the concentration camp
I lack an appetite by choice
I have faith in my religion
I’m Ellie Weisel writing with ink
Not brave enough to use my voice
Yet
I sit in this seat on a train
It’s the 90’s
Nirvana
I’m on a plain