There he goes home carrying holey bags full of hopes
After the eternal struggle.
Though it's an express train the kind Engine driver stops at every station as he doesn't want to leave the passengers in the darkness.
But some they do not encourage the delay.
...
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Great atmosphere in this one. I love to hear the lonesome sound of the freight trains going through West Columbia at night. Your poem has the mood of an old classic movie. Someone should be singing a folk song in the background.10/10. Always your friend, Sandra
Congrats. You have succeeded in picturizing the train journey so well. The idea that one has to travel back on the same train to meet the miseries of life is astounding and philosophical. Thanks and regards. (Nice to see you on PH)