My ticket punched, my fares been paid,
the train sits waiting, rails now laid
My ticket punched, the whistle blows,
its light shines distant, truth aglow
My ticket punched, the past on hold,
the future scorned, the present bold
My ticket punched, a burning thirst,
—a heart to quench, new tracks in search
(Villanova Station: March,2017)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem