Commute

Late again you run through the turnstile

Your face to glass but just if you’re lucky.

It’s too hot inside but outside its freezing.

Waiting and waiting for your stop.

Living in dreams and hopes of tomorrow.

Heads to floor and minds left in bed.

Put in your earphones to drown out the silence.

Just one women on the phone dealing with problems.

Hold your breath, tomorrow its Wednesday.

A ring of a bell and then off you jump .

Sweat and deodorant in the carriage behind you.

Almost another day killed, almost another week down.

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