Standing here, still waiting. At least I think I’m standing. The train rushing by so fast–the power of it might blow me away. Away from you, waiting for you.
Are you coming? I don’t see you or even feel you, but I’m standing here, waiting.
Is this even real? If you come will you see me? Or am I dreaming again, dreaming of you and I running away together.
The Bag Lady 
Sometimes I get tired of the waiting
Sometimes I get tired of being in here
Is this the way that it’s always been
Could it ever have been different
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Probably not. Too late for dreams
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Chattering carriages
Rattling train
Shattering marriages
Love was in vain
Finally, violently
Parting again
Leaving me silently
Here in the rain
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