Today, like many others, I am expected.
Not just by one but by many.
In towns and cities across the land,
They wait for me and pay a pretty penny.
They know what time to expect me,
If I am late they get mad, check the time,
They don’t want to wait and when I arrive,
They are pleased and surge forwards in lines.
North of the border, across the Tyne,
Thousands of people are waiting and so,
Out to the East and down to the South,
I am famous, it’s obvious, no?
But ask any of them, do they know who I am.
Show them a picture or ask them my name.
They will shrug, their faces go blank, because…
I’m just the person who drives their train.
Words and Photograph Copyright 2016 The Author. Unauthorised reproduction in any form is not permitted without the author’s consent.