Staring

Staring

 

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

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