Days are gone, when you used to hear so perfectly,
The 'Clickity-clack' of a train on a railway line.
Now, the noises are reduced,
And it changes from day-to-day, as well.
As you hear a train pulling up to a station,
The “Clickity-clacks” are whispered,
To everyone who is near on the train,
It looks like the train will be slowing down,
And angling itself, a little towards the platform.
Before it even stops,
The commuters, section-off themselves,
So as the train stops,
They can easily enter in or out of the doors.
There are clusters of them, rushing for a seat,
And there isn’t such difference, from the young to the old.
As you wait for the train to restart its journey,
Not one word is heard from within the carriage!
Suddenly, the Station Assistant signals the guard,
Who in turn signals the driver, by mechanical technology.
A small “Toot” from the driver and the train is on the way,
We’re all only interested in travelling to and from work safely.
But the driver is at risk, all the time,
If anything undermined, happens on the tracks,
Like the other week or so,
When one young man, committed suicide.
It happened in a carriage right next to me,
He had lost both of his legs, as the train was running fast,
And everyone heard that yell of “death”.
The driver watched in distress, the rescue attempt.
Whilst this was happening underneath, the dark tunnel at night.
I’ll always feel sorry for the one’s who take the blame,
In which their accidents aren’t really of their fault,
As most of them would be more sane then insane.
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