Faces go numb as wind hits
Cacophony of voices drown thoughts
Metallic rumblings approach
One foot from a four foot fall
Passengers traded for passengers
Do not hold the doors open

They make for the seats, leave none behind
Old ladies stand while young boys sit
Bleak metal supports warm flesh
Hands dangle from loops of steel
The train rolls over tracks,
A cacophony of miniature gunshots

Faces blend together void of expression
Passengers doze amid the din
The cart smells of vinyl and recycled air
Artistic advertisements advise me to act
An emotionless voice calls out what we know
I get off at Canal