Train Poem by Justin Reamer
Train
The train
Goes on and on,
Going like a whistling
Behemoth,
For there is not much to it,
Except the chugging
Down the track.
It goes on and on,
And doesn't stop,
While the people sit
Inside of it,
Waiting for their time
To get off.
And so on it goes,
Never to mind,
But goes on
To waste time of its own.
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This came from my experience with trains. They are not very nice, but I must admit that they are better than aeroplanes. This is just something I came up with. There is not much to it.
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 3:07:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
