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Poetry

Wallflower

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Upon the subway's ride, my gaze falls not on man nor sight

 

Where most eyes rest in slumber, or in landscapes bathed in light

 

Instead, I find my focus on the iron tracks below

 

Ignored by all, forsaken - yet they guide us as we go

 

In this overlooked existence, I find a strange kinship

 

A connection with the unnoticed that tightens its firm grip

 

Emotion floods within me for this object cast aside

 

A parallel to many a life where attention is denied

 

For who am I but one more soul amidst the daily grind?

 

Like silent tracks beneath us all, often out of mind

 

Yet vital to the journey, and deserving of regard

 

We share a bond unspoken - unseen but never marred

 

 

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