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Metro Trains

It stinks! Smelling like mildew
On top of old mold. A thousand wet collies,
Who've been stuck in a car for three days.

Today, the backpacks kiss while
strangers feet play footsy.
And we are all small sardines, packed
In an even smaller can.

People sitting, who can sit.
And others unlucky to stand.

I want to sit, and sit alone.
Fifteen stops to work and fifteen back home.
With probably ten pauses in between.

"This trip would've taken no time in a car."

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Direction): 
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Editing stage: 


This displays more originality of language use and more concision of meaning than your earlier works.
I adore seeing poets develop here.

Neopoet Managing Directors, with Richard (themoonman)

Thanks. Working on trying to lengthen my poems as well.

"Poetry is music for the human voice. Until you actually speak it or someone speaks it, it has not come into it's own."
- Maya Angelou

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