The darkened tunnels guide us,
To a better location.
The crowd of people makes a fuss,
As they push through to leave at their destination.
The sitting is particular,
The red seats offer lies of comforts,
The ones who need a place to rest wander circular,
While people with large bags scowl and give retorts.
The reading material varies,
They each display a certain play of words--
The ideas of an author, or who a celebrity marries.
My stop comes soon,
I need to stretch my feet,
The amount of people will make me swoon,
But getting to my stop is no feat.