The Same Set of Rails

I read this after a day busily travelling the underground

Dear sweet old lady clutches tightly to her bag,
A troubled look suggesting she’s due for a fag.
Two Chinese girls joking all the while through,
The rest of us stare blankly, we haven’t a clue.

30-year old heartthrob wipes tears from her eyes.
Bitter heartache confronting her husband’s lies.
Angry teenager with cuts and bruises to his face,
Cursing battles lost as he stares deep into space.

Couple off their honeymoon, adoration and bliss,
They can’t help but steal one more cheeky kiss.
The weary lifeless eyes of the man who is stood,
He would quit his job and break free if he could.

Exasperated expression of the teenage mother,
Texting her desperate pleas to an absent lover.
While her curly-haired boy lies asleep in her arms,
No doubt thankful for brief moments of calm.

Matching hats and scarves for father and son,
Hoping their team can continue their run.
Lost tourist panics whilst scanning a guide,
Unwilling to lie back and admire his ride.

A smattering of society oblivious to the tales, 
Of the strangers occupying the same set of rails.
The insignificant lives that have come into mine,
As we all share a carriage on the Bakerloo line.

The End

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