<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511438" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Moorgate</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The smell of smoked bacon, <br>clinging to clothes, <br>and the sight of a rat<br>or a huge black moth<br>as I waited on the platform.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Men, scrawny, some scruffy, <br>some seedy, some smart<br>would stand too near the edge.<br>I'd watch nervously, <br>trying not to stare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lone women, late at night, <br>would slide up to other women, <br>scared perhaps, of being left, <br>in an empty carriage, <br>with just one foul creep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some nights I'd fall asleep, <br>with the jogging of the train, <br>it's meandering, <br>through tunnels of dark, unholy<br>blackness, deep underground.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Moorgate still haunts me, <br>bodies crushed in a buckled train.<br>Ghosts ever present<br>in my head, <br>These days I hurry past.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They pierce my memories, <br>I feel their fear, their pain, <br>the smoke, the heat, the cries, <br>my pretty world decimated<br>into shreds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Show me the light, <br>let the blue sky shine on me.<br>Bring me sunshine, fresh air, tall trees, <br>for I dread the dark __ <br>that dank, stale stench of the underground.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ruth+Walters">Ruth Walters</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511438" data-title="Moorgate de Ruth Walters" data-description="The smell of smoked bacon, clinging to clothes, and the sight of a rat or a huge black moth as I waited on the platform. Men, scrawny, some scruffy, some seedy, some smart would stand too near the edge. I'd watch nervously, trying not to star..."></div> </div> </div>

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