Trains Poem by White Tiger

East side, west side
Out of the blue
Uptown, downtown
To accomodate you
Elevated tracks
And on the ground
The trains ballance on them
With a trembling sound
Plenty of seats
With textured faces
Plenty of riders
Decreasing spaces
They stop at a station
And open their doors
To exchange the people
On the platform floors
Another run completed
On metal powered lanes
By motorman with pride
Driving our trains.


C. Vergara
11.15.2007