No journey to make

How long do you wait with no journey to make?

Low sun dries the morning dew

alone on a platform you feel a dull ache

that tells you its long overdue

Autumn’s coming or is it the fall?

The leaves on the line make you wait

The phone’s in your hand but there’s no one to call

And tell them you’re going to be late

Malevolent images have messed with your mind

Like a hard drive of short painful slides

But today you’ve chosen to leave them behind

On a journey that ends in suicide

The world doesn’t stop there’s no bolt from above

A lorry is emptying bins

Your mind can’t control all the things that you love

Your mind can’t absolve all you sins

You make the first move there’s no going back

You feel a sharp shift down below

There’s strong smell of oil and there’s shit on the track

And you stare into oncoming yellow…

Life goes on…

with a minor delay

as they bag up your things

as they wash you away

your actions made at least 55 late

let them wait

Let them call you inconsiderate

life goes on…


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