For hours i have waited,
here it comes, at last
We're all grateful it came, at least
With its squeeky noise as usual.
It stops, The doors slides open
People flood in and out,
You'd swaer it was a free ride
The chairs are now all occupied,
so we stand accordingly
The people continue flooding in at the other stations.
The Durban train soon overcrowds
The windows cannot open,
So they force doors open,
the moister becomes hotter
You just can smell the polluted air,
As others star to sweat under arms.
The situation gets worse and unbearable,
it may sound unbelievable,
But that is the daily life of a rail passenger
in the train of Durban.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem