Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Train poetry

The window of the train was dirty
The dirt stood in between
I couldn't see at all... if you were in

Standing there on the platform,
frozen with a choice to make -
turn back and depart... or wave at you

At last I raised my hand
a little insecure fingers
and waved good bye... just like before

No matter if behind the window
you waited, smiled and waved at me
or simply found a seat... and sat

Looking at it through my heart
it didn't matter what you did -
my wave said nothing's changed... for me



  1. Awesome. Very narrative, almost no wordplay and that makes it all the more powerful.