The Tube Poem by Nicholas J. Roberts

More pedestrian than a shopping street,
These boards have been trod by a million feet;
This slippery platform slides away,
Under the hills and far away.

The sides are covered in dents and scratches,
And the floor has several unmentionable patches,
But the ceiling sports beacons of shining light
To illumine the traveller's distant sight;
Most of their eyes will eventually fall
On some bit of trivia on the opposite wall.

And so they sit staring for so many stops -
Shuffling their feet, or adjusting their props -
'Till the train arrives at its destination,
Disembowelling its contents into an Underground Station.

It'll do the same thing for a million tomorrows:
Containing our thoughts; our fears and our sorrows.