Train

Train.

All this rushing.

All this reading.

All this waiting.

All this didactic leading.

What does it bring us?

A single line. Long. Various stops. Too linear a being.

Is this living? Is this seeing? Is this the 21st century breathing?

This one straight line has me seething. Going or stopping. Never circling. Never creating. Never seeking.

This lacks all the humanness. All the best of being.

Train. I loathe your meaning.

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