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The 10 o’clock to The End of the Line
The 10 o’clock to The End of the Line rattles in on time,
With it’s heavy steel wheels screeching, fighting the brakes.
The station is quiet now, the platform is empty.
And I am waiting, exposed, with nowhere to go.
It’s so cold, and I’m hungry, to say no is so hard
As the pale, gaunt conductor calls me to his lonely ride
A trip through the wild and the darkest of tunnels
With a one-way ticket squeezed tight in my hand.
The layers of my defences slowly peeling away.
I know that it’s wrong, that I must stay strong.
But the plush seats are enticing, the hot chocolate delighting.
So I waiver and I wobble
Will you be kind to me this time?
Will your thick black cloak wrap me tightly so I can’t be seen.
So I feel nothing. So I am nothing.
Or does your promise of a carefree comfort
Only deepen the depth of the fragile feeling
That I must pull away.
‘til you are on your way.
Because your treats are so tricking and so deliciously deceiving
Your tightly trodden track leading
To nowhere but despair
And if I join you this night,
I might never return.
So with all the might I can muster
I drag my failing body back.
And turn away even further
With a hope for the future.
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