Sitting here for what feels like an eternity,

Questioning my own mortality,

And mankind's banality,

Just for something to do,


So there I sit with my head in my hands,

Because there's been yet another delay,

Just to get here I had hell to pay,

Hope in future I can find another way,


… The next train is now in need of repair,

And I am all too aware,

That I'm at a point in my life where I am literally going nowhere,

If it would just arrive maybe I could get over this feeling of despair,


I'm feeling like I've spent too long out in the cold and damp,

I'm looking like a sorry-for-himself, down-on-his-luck tramp,


I should've never come to this commuting trap,

With it's unrelenting announcements to mind the gap,


Yet another cancellation - Think I'll never leave this station,

Next time I'll get a bus.

The End

54 comments about this poem Feed