Ghost Train

She stood at the edge of the station
Wondering if she could make sense of the devastation
Of the world that barely existed
Beyond the flashes and paper mache twisted
How buildings flew away in smoke
With white collars, Rolex and coke
Men could kill men and if they do
They would rather prefer it was a woman or two
The city lights crushed across the Brooklyn way
What’s real anyway?
Poor men lining up the hall with faded jeans
Everything is blue but you’d rather prefer it green
Techno shots and hallucinating dreams
Rock n roll is dead before it made it to screams
People come and people go
But the real one at least stop for the show
The spillage of blurred blue lines
The heartbreak of a thousand kinds
The night ended before she could realize
Black was the brightest color alive

And white was the sorest of sights
Of promises broken and shady flights
She was left all damaged
In a sea of images perfected
The odd one out, the lone sheep
They don’t care how about the weeps
The sun has set, the rail engine blares
What’s hers to take is lost to snares
The city promises gold she’s heard
With convictions in her heart she steps aboard
Farewell, fleeting summer
Onto new tides set aside the slumber

© Rushna Imdad. All rights reserved. Published on April 4, 2017.  (In collaboration with Deej).

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