By Nyasha Celeste Makombe Thee Poetic Raindrop
Men, women, young and old await at the forgotten stop
A train station that was once well known but now nothing but a mere memory
The robots are always green
So are they’re eyes always wide open
Nothing is as it seems
On the dusty benches they lean
While toddlers run around and scream
You’d swear there’s a glimpse of hope for the people are forever ready
They are forgotten people
Waiting at a forgotten station
Hoping for a train to come and drop them at their destinations
Waiting for some miracle to happen
They are hopeful people
Stuck at a forgotten station