Missing The Train

I will always miss the train

Standing on the platform

A bag in each hand

I am ready

Yet I still don't understand

Why it is

That when the doors slide apart

I cannot move my feet apart

When the final whistle will blow

I cannot convince myself to go

I can almost hear the sound

Of my soul standing its ground

You know where I'll be found

Transfixed by the fear of traversing

This train

Of tragic trajectory

Every strain of me

Compelled to reversing