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Image for the poem Tunnels

Tunnels

Having sunk to the bottom, to the trains,
you manage to get into the last car,
and stand against the window;
starts dancing overboard.
 
But it’s not the seams of the tunnel that flash,
but it’s not the networks of wires that run,
take a closer look - this is how time passes,
take a closer look - this is how the years fly.
 
And already in the dark reflection,
a larger-sized silhouette stands,
it’s good that you can’t see how
painful it is.
 
It's good that flickering
behind dark glass erases expressions.
Not to see the faces of a man
or a woman overboard.
 
Everything rushes and slips away,
the even noise drowns out everything,
only the subway sharpens the thoughts,
and for this you love the train.
Written by KristinaX
Published
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