The Train


(This describes  my teenage innocence in catching my first train, self jesting my awkwardness and lack of confidence as I journey. Written in 1995)

I can walk with a little apprehension

if I wander to the station

and the train may come, just as I arrive

I wish I could only die

standing there opposite an unknown soul

amongst the dismal dreary eyes

of those who found an empty seat

I stare with glassy eyes, to the only window close

hoping that my pre-occupancy would hose down

others bored eyes

The train arrives, I bless how time flies

clumsily I unboard with fire-bullet stride

with only two things on my mind

apart from unwanted stares of males

deprived minds, I go to destination one

and see how I may fair

hmm, was it floor number one?

or was it two, or three?

there I am popping my head out to see

which floor I’d been

Uh! third time lucky, first time right

now I gallop off, round the block

to search for a shop, I will find sublime

Well no doubt I’d lose a pound, I’d followed the street

journeyed to it’s very end, where I finally found

the spirit shop I was bound

I have no comprehension, how long I’d nestled

in a shop I found so much of myself

so many choices, I did finally buy!

Many souls like me I found

Well back I go, home sweet home

to get back on the train, I picked a seat

so I’d be left alone, but two people

must have been drawn to me

Oaklands Park, the train finally stops

I panic trying to open the door

the train is busy, I shine with a slight hue

as the button to open is clearly to my right

what embarassment! but honest mishap

atleast I am home and I did it alone

I honour my learning and courage learned


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