The After Work Special
Hustle and bustle gotta find the right seat,
Don’t look up, don’t smile, don’t miss a beat.
One by the window or perhaps in the rear,
Eyes locked, pace quickens, the prize is near.
But maybe not that one, gotta keep going,
Run, get stuck in the hustle, the pace is slowing
Down to a stop.
An old lady.
A handicapped seat.
Once she sits
Start walking again and don’t ever stop,
Walk through all the cars ‘til you get to the top.
You finally sit down, breathe a sigh of relief,
A lucky pair- you and your perfect seat.
The train starts to chug, and heads start to bow,
The phone the most important thing in life now.
They worked hard today, through the seat and the phone,
Yet no acknowledgment that they’re all alone.
But they’re important, they know, as they look outside,
When the train chugs by me, in line for my ride.
Blank faces pass, dead eyes I meet,
No happiness in life, except for their seat.