Waiting for the train, I see the faces of the people around me.
Under their eyes rest the monotony of their careers, pulling down their expressions. Suitcases in hand, the men force themselves to stand up straight because their rusty smiles aren’t strong enough to do it for them.
Livelihood is dead in this underground station, and these hopeless slaves to their jobs await a light at the end of these streaming tunnels, attracted to the subway lights like flies with the faint hope of salvation, only to be zapped into reality as they’re driven away, into the tunnels,
into the darkness.
bus. trains. travel. a necessity, a dream for all , want to travel, get lost, discover, get caught in the rain, and cry. a necessary evil, a necessary gain, an eye opener
One time when I was 12 I think I spent New Years’ at the train station. I was visiting my grandma with my dad and we got stuck in Illinois, and it was snowing, and I slept threw the New Year on a bench. Kinda fun. :)
i love watching cooking shows, especially the competitions. The time starts and then everyone goes to their own stations. It’s amazing how people can work in such a hectic enviroment and create something so beautiful and tasty.
There was a station by where I lived. It was made of brick and imitation gold I’m sure. There was a store inside… but it was never open. The speaker at the station was broken so it consistently said “Station Number Sev- Station Number Eight.”
I went to the train station today. I was looking for you again. But, again, you weren’t there. That’s okay. I guess. I’m not mad. I just want to see you again. I think I’ll go again tomorrow. Maybe you’ll be there. Probably not. But, I can always hope.
I got to the train station at half past twelve. I sat and waited for you to come and you never showed up. I felt like everyone was staring at me, like they knew I was stood up. No one was staring at me. It was crowded and I was alone because you never came.
i hate train stations in ireland. theyre horrible and old fashioned and i feel like i will miss my train always and that my parents and cousins are so much more worldly and prepared than i’ll ever be.
They buy me candy, usually. but it tastes weird over there.
i love trains. stations make me think of them. i particularly remember being in a station (underground) in Toronto for 3 hours waiting for a friend. Being underground in a station. I people-watched. It was fun. I stood in a not-so-dark corner and watched, and laughed, and giggled, and grinned. And maybe sometimes judged.
Play stations used to be for boys. There were jokes about it. Playing with play stations. Playing with girls. Now there are girls all over the gaming magazines and comic con.
I waited for you by the station, as I have done for the last 3 months. I will wait here forever more until I can see your beautiful face once again. I don’t know why it is you left, but I will forever long for your return. I am lost with out you here… and each train is a small beacon of hope.
As I was walking through the station, I saw a solitary person sitting in the corner of the stairs. I went to see if he was ok, he was dead. Then, I felt a tap in my shoulder… it was the police. I became a suspect for being the real killer.
I sat in the station, the fluorescent light poorly lit up the room giving it a mucky feeling. The light flickered a few times, and the beam of light which encased my shadow disappeared briefly inbetween. I watch my shadow fade in and out of a drowsy memory.
As i waited at the station, wondering what it will be like to see him after 4 months. When i saw him walking my way everything around me blurred, all i could see was him. Id forgotten everything i was worried about. I just ran and rumped into his arms, and never wanting to let go.
I was in Italy this past semester. The train station was right by my apartment and I couldn’t have been happier. Easy to travel and simple to get home after a long day’s worth of traveling. I loved taking the train whenever i could.
i get to the station. you arent there. i wait, you never come. i go home, cry for days; finally you call. something came up. i run back to you. we are happy. it happens again. i run back. again. i run back. again, and i still run back… god help me.
Alone, waiting for a friend to arrive at the train station. Watching people walk by with their heads held high, running because they are late; children crying with their parents, not wanting to leave their hometown. People, travellers, going to explore the vast earth with their backpack and a smile, the only things that were left for them.
My station in life is that of an inbetweener. I’ve just finished high school and I’m entering college with no direction or purpose in life. I am in the station of the unknown; the disconnected are my brethren. I have no idea how to determine my meaning or ideas, but I’m content to sit back and learn while I carry on with summer.
On a midnight train going anywhere. Take me there. Take me away. Let him come, but only if he truly wants to. Does he love me? Does he care? Would he go on a train with me, not knowing where we’d end up?
they decided to meet at the train station.
“I can’t be with you like this anymore,” she says.
“But please, I love you,” he replies.
They lock eyes. The train whistle blows and she boards the train. She watches him as the train rides away.
A girl walks alone in a station. She is young. She is lost. Her blonde hair falls gently in curls, and a tear begins to slide down her cheek. A hand wipes it and lifts her chin, a familiar hand.
Within the gold of grand central
I thought of us in your barn
my legs tightly bound in yours
my heart dripping with the glow of the tv
and the glow of our huge love
I was at the station. The gas station. MY car needed gas. I looked up and saw him. He was beautiful. Then he drove away. Then I drove away. That was the end.
I’m unhappy with my station in life, but the truth is I’m unable to get out of it. I don’t want to. I’m afraid to try because… well, I don’t know why. I look at where I am, I’m sad about it, but I don’t know what to do to make it better. Day by day, it just gets harder and it feels like I’m getting further and further away from the greatest I can achieve.
Trains are at stations. Trains are cool and fun. They go places I have never been.I want to go to a station right now and get on a train going any where!!
The wind beats the the windows of the old train station where johnny was waiting for his train back to the ranch. He hadn’t been home in three days. His father had told him “johnny don’t find yourself back home with out selling all the heads of cattle.”
I sit at the station, tapping my foor, staing into the radio space. a beat thumps through my mind and vibrates through the earth. And I wonder why I’m here, sitting, waiting, I don’t even know anymore. I keep thumping to the beat, bobbing my head. I check the clock, glance around, can’t find a point to fixate on, to stare off at. My hands are empty and there’s nothing to do.
the old railroad station at the fruit district couldn’t look more welcoming. From where I came, we didn’t have much movement options. Just the old horse, no coal or electric machines whatsoever. So to my surprise, it had been abandoned for quite some years. If only people knew what it would mean for my people to have that in town. We were abandoned from any kind of technology, and having a station would seem like such a thrill. Just something to tell us we are evolving, getting ahead in the humanity race.
It was there that I saw her first,
hair cropped short,
skirt billowing
around her knees.
She stood,
shoulders hunched
in a way
that kept the outside
away,
her soul contained.
A tattered suitcase
sat by her feet,
her eyes
wree filled
with sorrow
and weighted
with a lifetime
of secrets.
In was in that moment,
waiting for a train
that would take me away
that I wanted to
move in
to her.
She sat on the edge of her bed in a daze, silently willing herself to calm down. The sound of the alarm clock broke through Kara’s thoughts, and she sighed as she moved to turn it off – the automatically chosen radio station was more input than her hangover fueled headache could handle. She eyed her cell phone again, but this time it was with the intent of calling out of work.
we start somewhere. we’re all going somewhere. so i think that the defining points in our life are the stations we arrive at along the way.
its those stations that we wait for, count on, need. everybody needs a goal to reach every once in a while.
I was at the train station a while back waiting to go to new york city and I got on the train with my girlfriend at the time and parents and we had a blast but my girlfriend isn’t as close to me as the used to be. i don’t like this word very much.
once, i went yto a train station with my school it was fifth gade. i had alot of fun. it wasnt really a station, more of a depot. and we had a really cool student teacher named Mrs. Sieber, and we became pen pals, but eventually, we stopped writing, i think i’ll go look her up on facebook! :)
I hate it when someone is station for war. Why not just turn to your favorite station on the radio. I hate wars . . . . I love music . . . . . . . . <3
Waiting for the spaceships at the uK-90 space station, the weirdest thought came to mind.. Why are elephants so damn big? spaceshit arrived with a bunch of new recruits and thats when i knew i was in the wrong place.
Waiting for the train, I see the faces of the people around me.
Under their eyes rest the monotony of their careers, pulling down their expressions. Suitcases in hand, the men force themselves to stand up straight because their rusty smiles aren’t strong enough to do it for them.
Livelihood is dead in this underground station, and these hopeless slaves to their jobs await a light at the end of these streaming tunnels, attracted to the subway lights like flies with the faint hope of salvation, only to be zapped into reality as they’re driven away, into the tunnels,
into the darkness.
bus. trains. travel. a necessity, a dream for all , want to travel, get lost, discover, get caught in the rain, and cry. a necessary evil, a necessary gain, an eye opener
One time when I was 12 I think I spent New Years’ at the train station. I was visiting my grandma with my dad and we got stuck in Illinois, and it was snowing, and I slept threw the New Year on a bench. Kinda fun. :)
i love watching cooking shows, especially the competitions. The time starts and then everyone goes to their own stations. It’s amazing how people can work in such a hectic enviroment and create something so beautiful and tasty.
There was a station by where I lived. It was made of brick and imitation gold I’m sure. There was a store inside… but it was never open. The speaker at the station was broken so it consistently said “Station Number Sev- Station Number Eight.”
I went to the train station today. I was looking for you again. But, again, you weren’t there. That’s okay. I guess. I’m not mad. I just want to see you again. I think I’ll go again tomorrow. Maybe you’ll be there. Probably not. But, I can always hope.
I got to the train station at half past twelve. I sat and waited for you to come and you never showed up. I felt like everyone was staring at me, like they knew I was stood up. No one was staring at me. It was crowded and I was alone because you never came.
i hate train stations in ireland. theyre horrible and old fashioned and i feel like i will miss my train always and that my parents and cousins are so much more worldly and prepared than i’ll ever be.
They buy me candy, usually. but it tastes weird over there.
a place to go to another place
place to meet people and travel to different places. a piece of territory. bus station.train station
i love trains. stations make me think of them. i particularly remember being in a station (underground) in Toronto for 3 hours waiting for a friend. Being underground in a station. I people-watched. It was fun. I stood in a not-so-dark corner and watched, and laughed, and giggled, and grinned. And maybe sometimes judged.
Play stations used to be for boys. There were jokes about it. Playing with play stations. Playing with girls. Now there are girls all over the gaming magazines and comic con.
I waited for you by the station, as I have done for the last 3 months. I will wait here forever more until I can see your beautiful face once again. I don’t know why it is you left, but I will forever long for your return. I am lost with out you here… and each train is a small beacon of hope.
As I was walking through the station, I saw a solitary person sitting in the corner of the stairs. I went to see if he was ok, he was dead. Then, I felt a tap in my shoulder… it was the police. I became a suspect for being the real killer.
I sat in the station, the fluorescent light poorly lit up the room giving it a mucky feeling. The light flickered a few times, and the beam of light which encased my shadow disappeared briefly inbetween. I watch my shadow fade in and out of a drowsy memory.
the trains that run need one. a place of safety, and recovery. a place to stay and create new. a pit stop or beginning.
train station, dark and solitary. there is only one person on it and its looking straight at you.
As i waited at the station, wondering what it will be like to see him after 4 months. When i saw him walking my way everything around me blurred, all i could see was him. Id forgotten everything i was worried about. I just ran and rumped into his arms, and never wanting to let go.
I was in Italy this past semester. The train station was right by my apartment and I couldn’t have been happier. Easy to travel and simple to get home after a long day’s worth of traveling. I loved taking the train whenever i could.
i get to the station. you arent there. i wait, you never come. i go home, cry for days; finally you call. something came up. i run back to you. we are happy. it happens again. i run back. again. i run back. again, and i still run back… god help me.
Alone, waiting for a friend to arrive at the train station. Watching people walk by with their heads held high, running because they are late; children crying with their parents, not wanting to leave their hometown. People, travellers, going to explore the vast earth with their backpack and a smile, the only things that were left for them.
My station in life is that of an inbetweener. I’ve just finished high school and I’m entering college with no direction or purpose in life. I am in the station of the unknown; the disconnected are my brethren. I have no idea how to determine my meaning or ideas, but I’m content to sit back and learn while I carry on with summer.
On a midnight train going anywhere. Take me there. Take me away. Let him come, but only if he truly wants to. Does he love me? Does he care? Would he go on a train with me, not knowing where we’d end up?
they decided to meet at the train station.
“I can’t be with you like this anymore,” she says.
“But please, I love you,” he replies.
They lock eyes. The train whistle blows and she boards the train. She watches him as the train rides away.
A girl walks alone in a station. She is young. She is lost. Her blonde hair falls gently in curls, and a tear begins to slide down her cheek. A hand wipes it and lifts her chin, a familiar hand.
Within the gold of grand central
I thought of us in your barn
my legs tightly bound in yours
my heart dripping with the glow of the tv
and the glow of our huge love
I was at the station. The gas station. MY car needed gas. I looked up and saw him. He was beautiful. Then he drove away. Then I drove away. That was the end.
I’m unhappy with my station in life, but the truth is I’m unable to get out of it. I don’t want to. I’m afraid to try because… well, I don’t know why. I look at where I am, I’m sad about it, but I don’t know what to do to make it better. Day by day, it just gets harder and it feels like I’m getting further and further away from the greatest I can achieve.
Trains are at stations. Trains are cool and fun. They go places I have never been.I want to go to a station right now and get on a train going any where!!
The wind beats the the windows of the old train station where johnny was waiting for his train back to the ranch. He hadn’t been home in three days. His father had told him “johnny don’t find yourself back home with out selling all the heads of cattle.”
“I hate that station, come on Donny, change it.” He did as he was told but he’d much rather listen to fine opera that her piggesh mouth.
I sit at the station, tapping my foor, staing into the radio space. a beat thumps through my mind and vibrates through the earth. And I wonder why I’m here, sitting, waiting, I don’t even know anymore. I keep thumping to the beat, bobbing my head. I check the clock, glance around, can’t find a point to fixate on, to stare off at. My hands are empty and there’s nothing to do.
the old railroad station at the fruit district couldn’t look more welcoming. From where I came, we didn’t have much movement options. Just the old horse, no coal or electric machines whatsoever. So to my surprise, it had been abandoned for quite some years. If only people knew what it would mean for my people to have that in town. We were abandoned from any kind of technology, and having a station would seem like such a thrill. Just something to tell us we are evolving, getting ahead in the humanity race.
It was there that I saw her first,
hair cropped short,
skirt billowing
around her knees.
She stood,
shoulders hunched
in a way
that kept the outside
away,
her soul contained.
A tattered suitcase
sat by her feet,
her eyes
wree filled
with sorrow
and weighted
with a lifetime
of secrets.
In was in that moment,
waiting for a train
that would take me away
that I wanted to
move in
to her.
She sat on the edge of her bed in a daze, silently willing herself to calm down. The sound of the alarm clock broke through Kara’s thoughts, and she sighed as she moved to turn it off – the automatically chosen radio station was more input than her hangover fueled headache could handle. She eyed her cell phone again, but this time it was with the intent of calling out of work.
we start somewhere. we’re all going somewhere. so i think that the defining points in our life are the stations we arrive at along the way.
its those stations that we wait for, count on, need. everybody needs a goal to reach every once in a while.
I was at the train station a while back waiting to go to new york city and I got on the train with my girlfriend at the time and parents and we had a blast but my girlfriend isn’t as close to me as the used to be. i don’t like this word very much.
The train left the station late, dark smoke churned up through the stacks, Clickity, clack, clickity, clack. the sound was hypnotizing.
once, i went yto a train station with my school it was fifth gade. i had alot of fun. it wasnt really a station, more of a depot. and we had a really cool student teacher named Mrs. Sieber, and we became pen pals, but eventually, we stopped writing, i think i’ll go look her up on facebook! :)
I hate it when someone is station for war. Why not just turn to your favorite station on the radio. I hate wars . . . . I love music . . . . . . . . <3
Waiting for the spaceships at the uK-90 space station, the weirdest thought came to mind.. Why are elephants so damn big? spaceshit arrived with a bunch of new recruits and thats when i knew i was in the wrong place.