You are Predator, I am Prey

Within my abysmal home
Luxury can be found, yet
When the conductor pulls
On the rope of the chugging
Train’s booming whistle, it does
Unto me as it does to
Itself. I snap in an
Upwards motion realising
That whispers and screams alike
Touch me with prickled fingers
I am nay more than prey to largeness

The End

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