I am waiting at the station,
Amongst a line of faces,
It’s a sweaty afternoon,
And my train as usual late.
My gaze it rests on this elder,
In a crumbled dark shirt,
Carry along a water can,
Shifting it between hands.
He seemed a bit impatient,
Pacing back and forth,
Looking again at the clock,
And kicking the dirty floor.
He looks longingly at the track,
And then in the direction,
The train will arrive soon,
Announcements sound suddenly.
I gazed around,
Letting my eyes to rest,
On the nearby TV screen,
Suddenly which came alive.
Onscreen these sprinters race across,
Dashing madly for the rope,
As the train whistled, one tripped,
And fell flat on the track.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome work. Great sentiments with nice style. Great write indeed. I rate it 10. TFS. Please read and rate my poem 'A daring hope' on page 1.