The Train Station

The passengers all come and go,
The trains as well, that I do know.
Some make it to their goal on time
And others don’t at all, sometimes.

Some stand there still and petrified,
As years pass till they decide
What destination they will try
To get to – never asking why.

Some get on board at the last time,
Some come here early, at nighttime,
And some don’t want to leave the train,
As pleasant memories fade away.

Some journeys end before the stop—
Chaotic speed, fear and teardrops—
While some arrive on time, as planned,
With joyful hearts in their homeland.

The people come, the people go,
And all the trains that are do so,
Only the station stays in place,
Always the same—birth and death race.

– Patricia