Feed my imagination

Public thoughts


Feed my imagination

A girl



Why do the trains cry?

I hear their small voices, I see their needy tears

Crawl into stations

Out of stations

And maybe they are not in pain,

Their hearts are not aching for freedom

But I feel their bumpy hands rub me,

Draw me closer to posture correcting seats

They keep us close enough for comfort

And at elbow distance for privacy


But answer me this,


Why is it that not everybody sees the yellow smiles painted as barriers?

How they lay everything on the line as the trains scream for them to move

How the driver becomes Olaf when bodies approach glass screens.

Maybe it’s because,

Life is the most temporary thing we have to permanently keep

And they just can’t bare the thought of gifting themselves an unboxed present every morning

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