It can be deemed rude, to stare
on a train, but what is one supposed to do there?
Do you put on your iPod and become ensnared
transported to another place, far away
by music and memories to a seaside fair?
Or do you chat to a stranger
and suffer their glare
as if to say, how do you dare
disturb the tunes that I blare?
So I join in the craze to stare
at my fellow passengers fair
Legs too long for the chair
the one opposite me seems ready to swear
at anyone who would dare
step on his flares
The others pretend not to care
crumpled against each other,
carefully avoiding to stare.
© Tania Dias