A memory with a new found relevance
Standing on the platform
in the cold rain alone.
Waiting for the arrival
of the last train home.
With the rain beating
hard against the ground.
A soft deluge on the roof,
a most beautiful sound.
And as I sat safe and dry
infront of the station,
I asked my self if I thought
I could find redemption
in returning to the place
that I left behind
to travel abroad with the
hope that I might find
my self, somewhere out
there among the crowds.
I looked down the empty
tracks, then up at the clouds.
Patiently waiting all alone
on the cool, damp platform,
for the last train home.
With the cold rain
pouring all around,
and not another living
soul to be found.
I got tried of editing it (read: hungry). So I promise i'll come back later. Besides, I'm always open to suggestions and other constructive ciritcisms.