Coming Into The Station
I hear the train’s whistle blow
It isn’t going all that slow
Everyone get off the tracks
This is no time to relax
Pulling into the station
People waiting in anticipation
You can hear the brakes squeal
All that power, all that steel
Everyone off, it’s the last stop, the conductor yells
It’s time for everyone to expel
People leaving the train
Some want to remain
But it’s the end of the line
The ride was divine
© Susan Zutautas 2019
This poem was written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #20.
