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Oct 2016
I stepped on the train
Which had an old fashioned feel
The little compartments looked warm and inviting
I opened a door
Made of wood and painted varnish
And a fear bolted through me like lighting
The two French gents
Gave me a curious gaze
As they spoke in their strong native tongue
Was it I they were discussing
As a guilt loomed over
I was thinking had I done something wrong
Back down the passage
Heart pounding
I slipped into another booth
But this one was worse
As the family produced smiles
My mind was a flow with untruth
The window was open
My head leaned out
I couldn't stand the torture anymore
A train rattled past
Think of the family
The misery it would bring to their door
A group of school children
All pushing past
Sir said a gentle hello
I nodded my head
Then closed my eyes
Hoping they'd hurry up and go
The train came to stop
Three stations short
Of the destination I intended to depart
But this was how it went
Every day on this train
As it stole my mind and then stole my heart
Written by
Andrew James Shepherd  Burnage
(Burnage)   
250
 
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