Photo Credit: Czech-transport.com

The surplus,

The running,

The Tailgating.

It doesn't really matter,

They'll move on without you.

A name on a sheet of paper,

A passenger

A flyer.

The snailing through black-taped lines to get from point A to B.

The angry looks,

The curiosity,

The little girl who lost her teddy.

The man sitting on his coffin

The man sitting on his home,

With his home.

A packed bag of goods that whisper to him bits of memory,

Of when and where.

And the school girls gossip about petty things,

They reminisce about better things.

And we wait.

And we wait.

I am tried.