Steps Poem by Ian Marx

Escalators without steps
are just lines and some light
nowhere for people to stand
but believe me they've tried

All they want is some time
and some personal space
to think to themselves
that they have a distinct place

'Individual' is an illusion
the steps merge, form lines
once distinct entities, now
their integrity, compromised

From the ground it looks like a slope
without an outcropping for rest
once you're on it, there's no hope
you've become one of the rest

I once got on that escalator
a conveyor belt without cares
but if confronted with the choice again
I think I'll take the stairs