Everyone is in a hurry,
Everyone is going.
Everyone is nobody to
Everyone.
The metro is rushing,
Intrusion isn't retro.
The silent mass is
Stone cold.
They make tracks
for the void.
Sometimes all people
run out of here.
The train pulls into a black hole.
There is a metro-draft under the ground.
You're being assessed by eye beam lights.
I catch one - it so happens, yours-,
I look back, and I feel like,
This is when life so far ends
My hand is fumbling,
Head is empty.
That's how it goes about
something every day
Time goes by,
Confetti rain is pouring.
The dirty street-depth
is coughing.
I come by here
Often.
The globe is dusty,
it slowly falls apart.