Sorry for the inconvenience.
I’m stuck in a station for almost two hours
with five hundred people who sigh and complain
about inconvenience, good days turned sour.
Someone has jumped in front of a train.
All the way home people talk and they groan,
“Why add all this hassle to my long day?”
They don’t think of any lives but their own:
their meetings, their dinners, and now their delays.
I think of the jumper’s life, not my own:
what might he have lost when he jumped like that?
I imagine a wife and children at home,
and the happy future they could have had.
The commuters smile as the station appears
while somewhere that family is pouring out tears.
