Alone in the express train

rrodriguez

Alone in the express train,

I would sometimes stand & look down

to the level where the train tracks were

 

to watch the gliding locomotive

screech around a tight curve

then speed straight past empty local stations.

 

What was in those fleeting moments

fascinating me as stations disappear fast,

flickering by before my eyes?

 

I remember how high I was

rocking side to side as the train sped,

I remember not caring much.

 

The stations came fast, flashing by,

the lights, the graffiti, the peeling ads,

the people zooming by,

 

the rhythmic clickety-clack of the wheels

The whistling wind, the dangling cables like

electrical spiderwebs.

 

All I wanted was to get home

over and over the train swayed and shook

as the train stuck fast to its steel tracks.

 

Or better still, to survive the night,

to stay alive on the lonely dirty train

as it tunneled through the eerie gap

 

devouring the darkness engulfing me,

and then there would be light

the day welcome me, I’m alive

 

but the long trek through the dark –

through the night, my teenage years,

faded, now I look back & wonder how I survived.

  • Author: rrodriguez (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 5th, 2021 08:54
  • Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about my teenage years in NYC. It represents a time in which I lived a wayward teenage life and conveys the idea of how my teenage years were wasted, and how my life turned around.
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 37
  • User favorite of this poem: rebmasters.
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments3

  • Saxon Crow

    Awesome poem. Very pensive

    • rrodriguez

      Thank you for reading my poem and commenting. I appreciate your comment.

    • Goldfinch60

      But survive you did and those memories of a wayward past gave you the strength to be the person you are today.

      Andy

    • Doggerel Dave

      Great descriptive piece.
      But what were you really up to?

      • rrodriguez

        I was at 42nd Street in NYC. This is where many people went during the night. Thank you for reading it and commenting on it.



      To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.