The Commuter

Down on Robertson Road

Where the white painted windows

Bleach in the autumn sun

The red-lipped lady steps forth

Umbrella in hand

Making her stand

On a journey she had now begun

 

Down on platform six

Where the old grey porter stands

Unsure of the line ahead

The fresh faced woman waits

Chewed gum at her feet

Waiting a seat

On a journey she always dreads

 

Down on bended knee

Where the ticket inspector calls

And the strap hangers hang

The nervous mother stares

An old man at her side

Taking a stride

On a journey with an urban chain gang

 

Down on Blackfriars Bridge

Where the swarm of people sway

And pigeons pick up the crumbs

The businesswoman now walks

Past the familiar gate

Testing her own fate

On a journey which her life succumbs

 

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Author: seagullnic

Writer, editor, lecturer and part-time musician. Passions in life: my family, Bob Dylan, music of many genres, Brighton and Hove Albion FC, cooking plus good food and wine.

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