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Whistle or Wind?

By , which i left in the mnts, UT
I used to lie in bed at night
And I think I was just in the middle
Sitting at a the train depot
Anxiously waiting,
But my ticket was just a bit old
Yellow and frayed
And the train was just a bit late
It was just a bit delayed.

I used to sit in bed at night
Daydreaming, while staring out my window.
(I had 3 skinny ones along on the same wall).
And sometimes I’d think I’d hear the whistle
And the rustling along the tracks
But my heart would sink as it was only the wind
After all.

Sometimes I’d pace my room at night
Caught up in the stress
Of needing to be somewhere
But I wasn’t quite sure where yet.
I knew I was late
I’d been stuck in the waiting room for so long
I’d nervously smudged off
My ticket’s arrival date.

Other times I’d try to open my bedroom door
(late at night of course)
And I’d wonder why you had come to me with lies,
Because I’d been too busy waiting
Planning
Nervously pacing
To watch the view moving from my windows
And passing my railway stop by.





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