The After Rush Hour Train
Emptiness breeds Renewal.
November can feel like a month of transitions, between celebrations and good times that were and those that are to be.
Vacancy.
Emptiness.
CHANGE.
But when life and space seem empty, hope and renewal happen.
🌌🚉🌌
Twilight dawns, the platform stands—
Empty.
Even the tiles breathe slow.
The schedule board blinks, an eye refusing to close.
A sweet wrapper’s slow dance in the draft,
A vending machine’s guttural hum.
Soft footsteps in the distance, an unwanted memory.
🌫️✨🌫️
Half-drunk coffee, newspapers read.
A lilac scarf lingers on its arm,
Drifting in the wind.
Every object, a person in haste.
November’s platform—in darkness.
Unlit.
🌧️🚉🌧️
My steps slow with the train’s chug—
Her missed graduation.
Mama, in bed, unseen.
His violin recital.
Each memory station a reminder,
A rest stop.
🍂🕰️🍂
The station alit, quiet.
The empty platform serves—
To rebuild.
Renew.
Old memories vague—
Yet a part
Of each turnstile.
🌙🚦🌙
Original poem by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin AI tags are coincidental
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
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