Train poem

I’m usually too tired to do anything but pass out when I get on the train after work, but the other day I found myself jotting down this little diddy:

Riding backwards on the train.

Standing idle in the rain.

A whisper softly in my ear

tells me everything I need to hear.

Clear my mind of all the rage,

to keep me out of a self-imposed

cage.

Now I am ready to start my day

Sitting in a cubicle to earn my pay.

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