Everytime I go through something bad,

I always end up on a train.

The sound of the tracks soothes me,

it's almost as if its home.

I look outside the window,

and I see the sunset early in the morning.

It reassures me the grass gets greener on the other side.

I see couples in love, young and old.

Nothing else matters while they're on this train ride.

All that matters is their love.

Love so simple and beautiful like a dove.

Life's moving too fast, just like this train.

I'm tired of getting hurt all over again.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related entries

The Book is Being Written

How we observe and how we reflect.

The Dreary Faceless

The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.

The Model House

The facades of a perfect home.

The Woman Who

This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.


Dreams, desires, id and ego.