The train

Just a poem, another one friggin lament.

The train

That when love said

My words were slain

I was not dead

But couldn't complain

To whom I write

If no one will read

I've lost the fight

And won the pain

What for are tears

If they don't fall

Are tears but years

Wasted in vain?

Beyond my eyes

But I was blind

I fall, I rise

Then, fall again

On a train of doubt

I booked a seat

But then found out

There was no train