A Poem on the Tube

In this tube where people sit or stand

We stand and sit so close; I taste your breath.

We keep our eyes so fixed, yet not a stare,

And thoughts go crashing round and out of hand.

Someone speaks out loud and fear expands.

In this metal tube that screams and snarls,

Humans like sardines are keeping still.

Clenching teeth and toes, some feeling ill,

At heat and smells, yet all seems calm,

Reading books up close and not alarmed.

Tube emotions can be graded by the mile,

Short journeys make us forget we’re underground.

Whilst the screech of wheels create a grating sound,

For those who take the trip a longer while,

And are left with watery eyes and tube fixed smile.

At journey’s end we step off and breathe a sigh,

The freedom just to move can feel like grace.

Still alone but glad to have more space,

We stride along the busy platform side,

Some homeward bound, some to other climes.