The Lonesome Commuter

Something about loneliness.

The Lonesome Commuter

As he sits back,
After a day of battle,
In a lonesome train,
With a ghostly rattle,
His commuting soul,
Looks down in grief,
Blankly staring,
At his iron feet.
Stops come by,
And wistfully go,
Whilst the carriage keeps moving, 
By an hour slow. 
He looks through the window,
At the world outside,
And beholds it in query,
For the turmoil inside.
The twilight breaks in,
Embracing the lonely night,
And he gets up to leave,
For a home nowhere in sight.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

I really enjoyed your first eight lines. The imagery I picked up was of a late night train with one weary traveller. If you are new to poetry, then I think you have got off to a good start. Keep writing.

[Anurag M.]

Thank you so much Christine! I am glad you liked it. I wasn't much sure abouth this poem's worth but your insight has been really helpful. Thank you. :)

[Chris Shaw]

You are welcome.