The image burdened with pain

I sat alone
As I stare at the image
At the rear of the train

There hangs at his suit
The chains of his resignation
Bound with few bucks
Ringing the slow shade

Thoughtless thought
Plays songs of worry
As he grabs hold of his tears
Serving him red coffee
Of a happy morning

I stare back at the image
Thinking his thoughts
Of what chapter
Would tear next on the ruin page
Rumpled in the book of his life
As the stop grabs a hold

The image moves
ahead of him who did the staring
Two feet above his face
Hoping the heaven
Would stop by
In the visit of the day’s fail

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About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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