I keep passing to the next subway car,
Eyes hidden behind dark mirrors for shade.
My footing unsure, I cling to the bar.
I constantly move, yet never go far,
My endurance spent and my last nerve frayed
I keep passing to the next subway car.
Ignoring the stops, unsure where we are,
My flesh is writhing as though I’d been flayed.
My footing unsure, I cling to the bar.
The dirty floor sticks to my boots like tar
And though my feet feel impossibly weighed
I keep passing to the next subway car.
I feel as if I’m sealed tight in a jar,
A prison from which all exit’s forbade.
My footing unsure, I cling to the bar.
The tunnel is black, without sun or star,
The air is stale and my lungs feel betrayed.
I keep passing to the next subway car,
My footing unsure, I cling to the bar.
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