Saturday, May 19, 2018

12 at the station

Why isn't it 12 yet, some exclaim 
It's 12 so soon, some repent.
Some run and tumble, late for their trip
While some slumber in a coach, within.

Many journeys have come to an end,
A plenty more, wait to begin.
What better way to gauge life
Than to sit at a station, watching passers go by?

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