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My Mind Is a Train Station
Flickering lights cast shadows on the crowd,
Each chasing hopes that slip through their hands.
Trains whistle past in endless circles,
Rushing toward visions that never stay.
I stand beneath a single blinking light,
Waiting quietly as the crowd fades away.
No need to follow fading tracks,
No rush to catch a train that disappears.
The platform empties, footsteps soften,
Only my shadow remains, still and calm.
Lights dim slowly until all is dark,
The station folds itself into silence.
Here, stillness holds me nowhere left to go.
One last train arrives, quiet and just for me.
A dream that stayed while I let the rest go.
Copyright ©
Naima Ybarra
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