The Train (Poem)

A graffitied train thunders past.

I cling to the top of a car.

In the rush of the air amidst the noise,

I hear footsteps and look over my shoulder.

Darkness grins with evil mien,

While wicked laughter falls all about.

With a sigh, I open my eyes

And continue my walk beside the tracks.

Escape. No escape.