From all directions
Conversation echoes
From robins and blackbirds
Cardinals and crows
A light breeze in my hair
It tickles my face
Nature is alive for spring
This is my place
The sun shows through the clouds
The trees make long shadows
But,
The outside world beckons as I must leave to catch a bus
I ride the train
Three days a week
I see the same people
With their briefcases and work
Novels their only form of escape
They have been trained to ride this train of same
This train of same brings them to the same place every day
And home every night
How can things change if
They keep riding on just the same?
They have been trained to ride this train of same,
Most of them IGNORANT to the possibility of change.