We patiently wait on the platform
For the train to arrive.
Passengers look at their watches countless times,
Eager to go home perhaps to a warm dinner.
But I don't mind waiting
Or staring at the empty railroad track.
Precious minutes may have gone,
But there I am, spending them with you.
Queues of passengers are getting long
Moods are turning dark and sour.
But there I am, still cheery and sweet,
My hand clasped in yours as we talk.
You tell me about your day, about your friends,
About your dreams, big and small.
Then something funny, and we both laugh,
A lighthearted pair among a disgruntled bunch.
Here comes the train, and the doors open.
We get shoved inside by the rush.
There's hardly a space to move or breathe,
But we carve our own little spot, remaining oblivious.
We reach our stop, time to alight,
And time to end our little talk.
We part ways, as I secretly think about
What the next train ride will bring.
09 May 2012