Put that frown far away, you know I
Love it when you grin.
Even when all hope is lost,
And there’s no flight from the din,
Sometimes just to know you’re smiling
Empowers me to win.
So please,
Make me happy, put a smile in your frown’s place,
I know that I can't see you but I feel it on your face.
Life moves on, and so will you, there is no need to cry,
Everyday’s a better one if you beam once in a while.

Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum,
The train drums steadily on.
You close your eyes as if to sleep,
Blocking out the world.

The sun shines down in your imaginary paradise,
Forever hung above the glittering ocean
The sky is a mix of vibrant hues
And the sand on your island as soft as the pink clouds

The world is changing as you lie oblivious,
Every colour is fading to grey.
****** features are blurring and distorting,
The train's steady rhythm continues.

A bird swoops down to where you rest,
Indistinguishable chirps flowing out of its beak.
Its gestures are frantic, and it emanates worry.
You choose not to pay attention.

Sounds are being warped now,
A mother’s sobs echo throughout the train carriage.
The train is slowing down now,
Drums sounding more high-pitched.

The colours seem artificial now,
You try to move but to no avail.
You’re trapped in what you thought was your oasis,
It’s too late to make your escape.

The drumming is gone, replaced by beeps,
And the sobbing is resounding louder by the minute.
You’re slumped unconscious in the lonely carriage,
There’s no light at the end of the tunnel.

Your screams are ear-splitting, but there is no-one to hear you,
Now you recognise your mistake.
The coils around you tighten,
Keeping your eyes shut.

Open your eyes and see,
You're on the journey to nowhere.
One final, lengthy beep rings out,
The train slows to a halt.

“My life matters,” he declares,
To the mirror on his wall,
But the glass is almost shattered,
The shards about to fall.

“My life matters,” he mutters,
They’re tailing him out on the street.
This couldn’t have been a mistake, he concludes,
But he’s ready to meet his defeat.

“My life matters,” he chokes,
Doing nothing to halt his restraint.
His heartbeat is getting slower, he notes,
The harsh pain is growing faint…

“His life mattered,” they cry,
Witnesses of the cruel death.
“You were meant to serve and protect,” they scream,
“Not deliver his final breath!”

“Their lives mattered!”, the protesters chant,
Crowds of them flocking the road.
“Why is their skin colour a burden?
Why’d they have to carry the load?”

“My life matters,” the little boy whispers,
Hot tears streaming down his dark skin.
It doesn’t matter enough, he muses,
One final tear trails down his chin.