It was the same path

The same dusty street

The same man smoking in the alleyway

Nothing new today, not that there ever was

I got to the bus stop

Waited patiently for the bus to arrive

Waited for it to carry me on my journey

It took its time

It eventually came

So I got on and paid my fair

Took a seat and stared at the air

We were on our way

I got off at the train station

Walking down the massive flight of stairs

And waited

And waited

People pacing up and down

Men in business suits

Checking their watches every five seconds

Making sure their leather boots aren’t ruined

Women checking their hair

Holding massive purses

Who needs those

I wonder

The train came

Out come one or two people

And then we enter

Like a massive human tidal wave

Clustered together

No breathing space

No moving space

Be careful not to sneeze

And it was in the midst of this human traffic

That I learnt a lesson

About life

About living

As I stared out the train window

Looking onto the traffic

I saw the cars

Clustered just the way we were

Animals

Leaving one prison for another

We enter of wheeled caged

And travel

We work and strive

And eat to survive

We work to live

We don’t work to give

And what about I

The guy

In the train

In my own chains

Am I not in a cage too

Am I…

“This Is Perth”

And off I go, on to the next train

I am not who I say I am but who my writing says I am; my characters define me. Like puppets in a play, they tell you who pulls the strings. I'm not who I say I am; I'm who you think I am.

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