A travel by train at night
I find it hard to escape
those crazy things that flood my thoughts
the windows are black and reflect
the empty words, the fights yet unfought

And the lights outside are all that's left
I might find my inner mess
and I'll whisper or pray
but the longer I stay
it's harder to let go and rest

I'd estrange and befriend
all at once if I could
my fellow staring-at-nothing passengers
they could be looking for-just like I do
forgetting the mess that is theirs...

I wrote this after a train ride at night. You really can't
see anything outside, it's like being forced to look inside.
I think it defines what we feel (well I do anyway, but I
think it's a normal thing to feel) in long travels when
we're reflecting on our lives because there's nothing else
to do, and getting gloomier and gloomier...