The Circle Line
She is the train pulling out of the station;
No way of turning around;
To pick up the man left stranded on the platform,
She speeds off down the track.
Into the darkness, out of sight,
He is left, wondering when the next train will arrive,
For him it will always be considered second prize.
He will forever be late, so why settle?
He controls his fate.
Three strikes and you’re out right?
It’s impossible to make up the time,
When travelling around and around on the circle line.
His options, the pair, filled with fear.
To make the leap? Or just wait, sit here?
It’s only three minutes more
‘til the next train rolls in.
Get on, or get under?
One hundred and eighty seconds to ponder,
The consequences of not making his train,
In the time he takes to decide
She has already reached the next stop
To pick up her passengers
And allow them to sit in the seat
That was always meant for him.....
The man opposite me at the station.