Commuting (A Poem)
Early morning
Rise before the sun
Shuttle, cold darkness
Eyes closed
Sound of traffic
Walk in the cold
Wait for the train
Minutes more
Frozen breath rises
Get on the train
Bell rings, doors close
Find a seat
Screeching rails
Train is silent
Bundled, withdrawn
Feeling fatigue
Station down below
Crowds of people press
Bodies stir air
Will it end?
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