Fatality at Birchwood

While I was on the train the conducted made an announcement that someone had committed suicide on the tracks. This is my view of what happened.

ensconced in present time I secure my seat on the train while 

Prying eyes glare at diamonds more precious than my own 

 They stare  into my privatised prison , but I think of home

ideas , thoughts and visions collect and form a steady pile

Meanwhile, my stream of consciousness flows down river 

I turn off my mind relax and float downstream 

they open a newspaper , and look at lizards that snarl and slither

I ponder if it's hatred that spawns greed

Or is it instinctive need that makes people collect rather than recollect ?

a voice breaks the silence and echoes  on the microphone 

people hastily fumble with their Coke cans, cold 

A Mersey voice states someone   will never make it home 

A fatality at birchwood, some stops are cancelled 

an iridescent fumbling of bags and. crisps

violent images of blood and gore fall flat 

Splat

just like that

Sorely missed.

People say "that's not good"

they say "well isn't that just a darn shame"

but in truth they are misunderstood 

They don't understand the pain

their minds are focused on their train,

 their loss

their cancelled stops  

Not on the person standing on the edge of the tracks

With head cocked back an depression set in stone 

They don't think that they could be on tracks of their own 

If circumstance abated and things went out of whack 

Because the middle class mobb runs deep 

It's survival of the fittest and only the strong survive

empathy has been removed , in selfishness they keep 

Their eyes focused on themselves, to no surprise .