A Station Called Youth Poem by Abhay Vignesh Liginlal

I am in a compartment in the train of life
I only know those whom I see here,
New passengers get aboard now and then
Some get down at nearby stations
While close friends stay behind,
The station I am to get down at
Is still an image in the dark, while all I can hear
Is a never ending rattle & a distant whistle

Life is but a blink in the eye of time
While years rush at us in an attempt
To sweep us from the shore
Seconds being reflections on the dewdropp of hours,
We lose count of days as the train of life
Speeds through the rail of time
While my destination is bound elsewhere;

I leave my signature on every station
Youth makes the wildest sketches
In the canvas of life,
While fame alone will outlive us.