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Abner Ros Nov 2020
A shoeless man aboard an expedition into the unknown
With overgrown nails bathing in warmth,
Grasping a primordial camera, searching for focus
Amidst an evermoving piece of land,
Restricted to the callous one meter pane -
All that he could ever call his own.

Cautious gazing intertwined with
Tapping feet and unkempt hair.
As a poisonous addiction engulfs the air
Of which he thinks he can breathe no more

One last breath for the journey Home.
S I N Dec 2019
I prefer avoid using the
Public transport; when i have to go
Out early in the mornings, there are
Only two ways as my commute:
The traffic jam, the real queue of metal,
Man; and the sealed can on the rails with the slingshot attached to its roof; not bad
A thing itself; but early in the mornings it is
Usually crowded with scorching, scolding
Despising each other people; hard to
Avoid thinking something negative in a
Place like this; so I would rather just walk
To my place of study; to study people and
Actions and their consequences by the
Mere observing; for ‘tis my the only work
For now: to observe and note
Gabriel burnS Jun 2017
staring contest in public transport
and the stranger’s eyes
were her passport
passed the check at customs
crossed the borders of an impulse
I was hers and she was mine
until the station

my coffee daydreams
mad with jealousy
because reality was
standing true in front of me
their eyes met in the train car: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Co3w_ZxcO1U
Harsh Doshi Mar 2015
Faces unknown, side by side;
Cooperating and mingling;
Looking for a better spot, and yet,
heading the same way.

Everyone becomes equal,
Everyone pays the same fare,
Everyone has a life,
Each as complex as the rest.

Every face is new,
Every mood different.
holding some mystery,
Each different,
None less or more.

A game of patience;
Waiting to reach the end of one path,
And the beginning of another.
A hurry to get up, and get down.

A bus, a metro, a train,
An auto and an aeroplane,
The modest pace of a tram,
The coziness of a shuttle van.

The stories in a public transport,
Are things I wouldn't wanna miss.

I shall never, for the life of me,
Stop traveling in public transport.
Without it, I wouldn't be me.
For me, public transport itself represents life.

P.S. : this is the only poem I have written while not in a public transport.

— The End —