Station after station
goes by platform
passing platform
light to darkness
darkness to light
underground train
you sit there
on a seat
looking at your feet
knowing he'll be there
when you get home
knowing what he'll say
the way he'll look
those dark eyes
that sneer
that deep down
chilling fear
he brings you
and that guy at work
who tries it on
thinking himself
God's gift
and the way he waits
by the drinks machine
as if I would
you muse
seeking out
to win
knowing very well
you'll lose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem