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The life as a train
I am a train
I have a start and an end station
Each station I come to some enter and some leave,
some may even stay all the way
I am never empty, yet there's always something missing.
I am a train
I am filled, yet nothing changes my pace.
My tracks are straight, I have only one way to go.
I am a train
A shell, inhabited by others.
Without them I'm nothing.
One thing troubles me, what will happen at the end station?
