Sunday, November 28, 2010

The Train

The train's pulled out and here I stand,
a stranger in this lonely land.

Though I have been alone before,
this loneliness is so much more.

Memories juggle within my brain,
trying to keep my conscience sane.

People push and pass by me;
I hide my tear-stained face and flee.

Both spirit and money tend to be low;
what good is direction when there's no place to go.

Poem by LSB (PoetryWings)


  1. Sorry you left Twitter, but I look forward to reading more of your poetry on here. Cheers! Jim ツ

  2. Jim,thank you for dropping by! Twitter was just too much to keep up with; blogging may help me write more frequently. I welcome any constructive suggestions.

  3. Very beautiful and haunting writing. Descriptive as well--I can hear the train's whistle as it pulls out and can feel the shoves of the people passing by. Well done. Keep writing!

  4. Me, thank you for your comments. Glad you could embrace the feeling.