The Last Train

It was a suburban station
in the middle of nowhere.
The last train had just left,
no reason to remain there.

The station manager smiled
and was obviosly delighted
that he could now go home
as all travellers had alighted.

The passengers had gone,
most of them except me.
I'd stopped at the “Gents”
because I needed a pee.

With ablutions over, I tried
to exit the train station, but
I couldn't leave the premises:
the doors were tightly shut.

Trapped in the waiting room 
the only things I was able
to read, were a notice board
and the railways timetable.

What one of the notes stated
was something I did't expect:
the station was permanently
closed, with immediate effect.

I recalled the quote “Abandon 
all hope, ye who enter here”
and I was suddenly  assailed 
by an uncontrollabble fear.

Would the building be flattened
by a big mechanical bulldozer?
The question that I may be in it
was an utterly petrifying poser.

© Luigi Pagano 2025