Poem -

the commute

the commute

sun alights the quiet train,

faces aglow yet showing strain,

a space is left between every seat,

concentration on phones is complete. 

one may look up, catch my eye,

but quickly avert towards the sky,

or to a conversation on their device

with someone whom they’re certain’s nice.

nevertheless my music rings sweet

the lives of those I’ll never meet,

who seem to be more the same

than those here with me on the train.