On The Seven-Thirty Train To Nowhere

"Doors closing,
Please stand back......"

Once again, I am returning home
from the toil of endless days,
Moving through an icon of my homeland,
A microcosm of the society I live in.

The faces are all spent. Theirs is of
a tale of life in the concrete jungle,
Saturated with fatigue is the air in the chamber,
A weariness of the city in their eyes.

The garish make-up of a woman past her prime,
A poor self-deception of one's own beauty.
The wizened old man, more bone than flesh,
A remnant of days gone by.

The office girl in her work dress,
Shouldering the weight of a hectic day.
The 'mat' in his hip-hop wear and spiked hair,
Face drawn in anticipation of weary times ahead.

A young couple cuddling by the door,
Seeking companionship in these lonely times.
A boy playing with his baby sister,
unaware of the fate waiting for them both.

All this I see, just in one walk,
down the aisles of the seven-thirty train to nowhere.
The reflection of the numbness of Singapore's people,
all hiding themselves behind masks of non-feeling.

I get off the moving museum of Singapore,
watch it depart with its exhibit of her society.
And Iwonder where they are headed for,
these hapless citizens of an uncaring reality.