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On Track and Off Kilter
And the man slumps into his dusty seat
On this train, barreling to the next.
Though the world flashes by his window,
His eyes draw glazed shades
And well up to a sparkle.
No tears escape,
They just brim along the baseline;
Far too small to be seen, unless an onlooker
Were to peer closer than a glance.
Only then would his well-versed battle
With composure be betrayed.
But everyone's world is their own on this train
So he will go undetected as he waits for his next stop.
This person commands respect
This person commands respect much more than the person who did his crying in the rain, from that older song. And many of us have this battle for composure so as to make this poem quite relatable. Thanks for sharing.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
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