Rickety, rick, rackety rack,
The train sings a song on its old track,
We swing with its tune,
Swaying and bouncing a moment too soon ,
Sleeping in it feels like being cradled in a mother's arms ,
But the rail sqeal sounds like a thousand alarms,
People who are traveling to the same place ,
Seem like newly found relatives in our space .

© Srimayi