Thursday, October 13, 2005

A Train Ride

I stood at the door, staring out at the night,
alone in the crowd, on the train that night.
The stops came and went, the doors closed tight.
My panic rose and I had to fight
the fear that rose in my heart that night.

I felt something wrong, they thought it right
to travel to nowhere, forever in the night.
My heart stood still, I had to alight.
Back again, to where it all began,
the doors opened up and I almost ran.

It mattered not that they felt fine
to stay on the train at the end of the line.
I stepped out with a heart so free.
Most of the others that I could see,
content to ride in the endless night.

The crowd seemed to feel that it was right.
I followed the few who left the train
and felt that all was well again.
We moved along in single file.
I looked and wondered all the while.

The big re-cycler stood alone.
I waked in and was instantly gone.
I watched and saw, overlooking the train,
that it simply all began again.
The choice was mine to leave the train.

I need not ride again and again.
All I needed was to know
and the desire that I should go,
to leave the train and travel on,
to see their fate, and find my own.


Beard said...

I enjoyed your poem. It is a great metaphor for the realization that what we thought was everything was actually nothing.

Zareba said...

Thank you. I am happy you enjoyed. The poem came ready made after a particularly vivid dream.