Commuters

Misty-eyed chronicles

glide by-

the lines written on their faces.

Relative to all and nothing,

their gazes glaze glowing stations:

a paper falls and tumbles

twisted by underground rumbles

and mumbles of eternal shufflers

in a rat-race chase where speed

and haste choose the transportation

of the quickest; opening doors,

Destination reached –  Escape – Release –

Breathe –

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