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Long lost road
To the old fire station
With a beautiful archway
The fire engines
In bright red
Never knew rest
A drill or two, a day
Fitness parade
For all, to learn to save
Now
No sirens
No calls to attend
The bells ring no more
Snorkels saving lives
Salvaged many a blaze
All gone
Peacefully it retires
Alone
Amidst old walls
Inspired by a photo
Deep Apr 13
The separation stretches for more than twenty hours,
I wait and wait and wait...
On the lonely station
For a train that gets canceled
After getting delayed for so long,

I yearn for the journey
The destination beguiles me,
So, if not by train
I'll cover the distance imagining
the time which tied us together like spokes of a wheel.
Mark Oslo Jan 25
summer night
lit up by the flashlight
of a cracked cell phone
suburbia held her breath
sang to by the crickets
a walk to the gas station
holy city in the dead of night
my friend drank too much ***
he banged on the door
it was locked
the clerk seemed scared
he thought we were robbers.
Jet Dec 2020
The restaurant
We ate at
The last time I saw you

Is now closed

I didn’t know that would be the last time I would see you

I didn’t know that would be the last time I
would eat there

You looked into my eyes for the first time since I picked you up to say “this is the best garlic bread I have had in my entire life”

It took us 47 minutes to get there

It took us 61 minutes to get home

Because we sat in the parking lot of a gas station I’d only been to once before, but liked a lot

I haven’t been there since we were
Either

We listened to that song

Not the one you quoted at “lunch”

Not the one about what you want and don’t

The one that asks why

I took you back

To his house

I parked a block away

I cried
Jake Welsh Aug 2020
books written in symbols
were attempts to mimic the language of the heart

somewhere i jotted within an admission of love

i wonder who knew it first
and how profound it could be when it was there the whole time

~

i find myself at Union Station,
where people pass time sitting silently in pews.

closing doors kick a breeze that weaves between the columns
holding up the heavens
the hair on my arm waves like wheat stalks

i’ve got a hunch i could go just about anywhere from here

the halls here just go on and on.
it’s not the whole world, but it’s the only place i want to be.
hi everyone, i haven't posted here in a while, but i thought it would be appropriate since i just released my new poetry chapbook. if you like this poem, you should check out some of my samples on my etsy page!

take care,
jake

https://www.etsy.com/shop/leafandplume
Amanda Hawkins May 2020
we take the same train everyday
I don’t know your name nor where you come from
what a joy is to see your face once more before we part ways again
but the moment the train moves
the rumble of my heart lead the way
stead fast, the scenery of steeping in Front of emotion
track after track
winding and twisting with nothing to block the way
the express route to desire
your astonishing beauty
Is my favorite stop
love at first sight
I wish I could've told you how I felt
I wish I could've held your hands
before alighting the train
Tizzop Jan 2020
hook a buddy up my heart
is racing
trapped in purple drops of rain
my pulse has been pacing
like a golden train

we were spacing
out for five hours
my words became your worst
your worst became my words

listen to your inner voice:
nobody is without...
Sins are committed by everybody.

Regardless of skin color, moral values, beliefs, nationality, age, gender, ****** identity, welfare-dependency, wealth.

Fühlst du mich? (Feel me?)
Do you understand that?

It is never about stereotypes but about oneself.

Still, stereotyping helps us to survive in this weird world.

Are you brave enough to distinguish?

Today is a good day.

YouTube: "Bedrock Beautiful Strange"
Poetic T Oct 2019
Life can derail you sometimes
              but you just have to get

on a new track.

And at each new station of life depart,

                         relax till its time to once again

to  travel the tracks of life...
Over Aug 2019
His feet trembling
And my tongue sticking out
His breath numbered
Ant dancing in my hand

My blood too sweet
Heart wrinkled in cold sweat
Cold gaze on his face as
I constantly made him fret

His heart too sweet and
His blood to sour for my tongue
These ants too sour for
The blood on my palm

This skin too pale for
The radiance in his eyes
This chest too open
For someone to hide inside

Gave me his heart he who
Had none for himself
Took my blue heart and
Stuffed it into his chest

My eyes shift into focus
His chubby face is too dumb
The subway station too cold
My skin was too numb
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