I used to see him at the station
Waiting alone on the platform.
He on the other side,
While I was surrounded by the crowd,
Hustling and bustling, waiting for the train.
He would sit quietly reading the paper,
A gentle smile on his face,
As if he were laughing at us.
We pushed and shoved one another,
Trying to get the best spot
To get on the train.
His train arrived and he gently stepped on,
Took the seat of his choice
From the many of which he could pick.
My train arrived and the scrum would start
To try and find a space, let alone a seat.
The train would move,
I would be on my way with the crowd,
This crowd of people,
All going with the flow,
To our day of drudgery.
The day I retired that all ceased,
And I like that man I used to see
Would walk with a smile on my face,
As peace and harmony came to me,
As I then became,
The man going the other way.