Impatient, weary and care-laden man
Who tramps the platform in an anguished way,
Urging within the slow, reluctant train,
Why not stand still and watch the sparrows play?
The whole of Nature chirps and hops with glee
Amongst the sleepers and the carefree weeds,
Yet you just yearn to get from A to B
And want to fly there at the swiftest speeds.
Your thoughts already lost in papers grey,
And dreary files and faces blank and wan
Surrounded by a whirr and click that rules your day:
Soulless machines that take the place of men.
And having got there what do you do then?
You yearn impatient to be home again!