Suspicion
Emptiness
The humdrum’s just begun.

Glances
Gazes
The endless Monday morning glum.

You look from person to person,
Seeing if there’s something they lack.
But you end up looking through a window,
Where only your own reflection stares back.

You see the high flyer,
The train’s soundtrack is their phone.
You see the low-life scumbag,
Rotten, stinking, left alone.

Wariness
Loneliness
Your audience awaits.

They watch with glee
Waiting, waiting
For entertaining mistakes.

The teenage mother,
Who, in desperation, will swear.
Only to be met,
By an old woman’s disdain-filled stare.

Just another journey,
Just another train.
Stereotypes fulfilled,
It isn’t just the destination that’s the same.