The train

The title stems from the anecdote that birthed this piece of writing.

Image Credits - Pexels

A scribbled text unsent,

a thousand memories spent.

T-shirts that scatter your scent,

beating over words I never meant.

In the end what remains,

is a transformed soul, with no resent.

From my hospital window, the railway tracks pulsed with life, each minuscule figure from atop, engrossed in thoughts alike.

Promotions, dinners, lost loves, fleeting landscapes, could have been anything, really– a quiet symphony of musings from mundane to main.

Much like the passengers aboard, I’d once hopped onto a train, lived a beautiful journey and gotten off around my lane.

No regrets, no resentment, only warmth and gratitude, running through my veins!

Also Read: Cats, empathy, and family