I always dream I chase a train station
As if my life depended on the ride
Hoping the next stop is a safe haven
But knowing the narrow tracks are no guide
This isn’t the Polar Express of dreams
Nor a fable or tale with one and friends
This is a dream of freedom by all means
Praying that the next stop is the end
I always dream of open carts and platforms
Yet still, see the towering buildings aglow
As if history is the centre line where all that falls upward
Into buildings outside of what we know
Because time has caused us to go backwards
Not knowing which way is up and which is down
Incepting isolation with every light bulb
Until train tracks and empty footsteps are the only sound
About the Creator
Ann G.
Just another human observing the world with all my senses. Only begining to learn how to be comfortable with sharing my thoughts through poems and stories.
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