Michael Norton


Confessions Of A Subway Rider - Poem by Michael Norton

Little man in a downtown station,
Reaching for a ticket stub,
Walks through the stile,
But his coat gets stuck in the gears.

He curses the day and his size and his coat,
Yanks until the stitches start to snap
A little girl in a blue dress stops to watch
But her mother hurries her along
They can’t be late to the hearing
Mommy has lot money riding on,
What Daddy says, so they get on the train.

On subway, sits a dirty man,
With a dirty guitar in his dirty palms,
Singing of all the wrongs done to him,
My his old man and his government,
His words catch a young man’s ears,
And he can’t help but laugh and laugh
Because the dirty man was him
The dirty old man was him in a mask,
Of age and dirt and hurt and grim
He drops a nickel in his hat

Now I know how it feels
Now I know how it feels
To be alive in a world that living too

The subway went dark and the little girl screamed
The passengers all gave a sign,
That had places to be,
Meetings to attend and people to dine with
The voice from the metal box
Said hello folks, how are you
I am fine if you going to ask me,
And even if you weren’t going to ask me,
I would still be fine.
You’re probably wondering in your minds collectively,
What’s going on in this train, the lights are out,
And the darkness brings up the fears and doubts,
Of days gone by,
To tell you why the lights are out and why the train,
Has come to a full and complete stop
The power is out in here
The power is out in here
The power is out and I doubt it will ever come back on

Now I know how it feels
Now I know how it feels
To be alive in a world that living too

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, June 17, 2007

Poem Edited: Saturday, March 12, 2011


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