Passengers
The things we think that feel the best.
Most often cause us pain.
So we risk to seek the pleasure.
Again, and again and again.
This is for the ones we hurt the most.
They sit and watch us slowly die.
We sacrifice their little hearts.
We rarely bat an eye.
They are merely passengers.
Riding on our ship.
We unknowingly bring them along.
On our destruction trip.
When we feel the pain.
They feel it even more.
The quest to our destruction.
Lies just beyond the door.
We open it up and walk right in.
The pleasures make us blind.
The innocent little passengers.
They follow right behind.
A tear wells up in the little one’s eye.
And rolls down their little cheek.
But we journey down the road to hell.
Their pain is worth the peek.
Another door, another room.
Further in we go.
The passengers hurt and terrified.
As we continue on our show.
Then when it is all said and done.
And we admit our own defeat.
The innocent little passengers.
Stand behind us bruised and beat.
We turn around and there they are.
We see the damage we’ve done.
The pain for the innocent passengers.
Was not at all worth all our selfish fun.
We say we’re sorry, forgive me please.
Can we leave this all behind.
Not aware of all the scar tissues.
We’ve left in their little minds.
So chose your path so carefully.
With everything you say and do.
The pleasure we seek, it is all lies.
But to our passengers it’s the truth.
We hurt the ones we love the most.
Our actions lead the way.
Remember their tomorrows.
Lie within our todays.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mad Mariner
Mad Mariner rose in the city bus
That slowly on the road
In the crowded of city street
Heated the sleepy passengers
And was tired
Hook, hook, his fingers
Straight to the roof bus
Ran and ran again
He screams
On the city bus
How this could be happen
In the city bus
Apart From
Frighten passengers
poem by Prasetya Utama
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Solidarity
The last train stopped at midnight
With the passengers!
A mechanicl fault it seems.
And an old bus towed her
To the last destination!
All the passengers and the disabled train
Gave lot of thanks to the bus.
That's all!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Let Me Entertain You
To the man playing his music loudly onboard my train:
Both you and I can hear your music, oh so very plain.
It doesn't seem to be appreciated by this here crowd.
Tell me, does your music really need to be quite so loud?
To play loud music in a public place, I would not dare,
But, to me, it is very obvious that you just do not care.
If you bought yourself a pair of groovy new headphones,
Then your fellow travellers, on this train, won't need to moan.
To you, your music will still be heard loud and crystal clear,
But, your music, your fellow passengers will not have to hear.
During their journey, some passengers like to have a chat,
And that's perfectly fine by me: I'm totally okay with that.
Spare a thought for those poor people who are trying to read:
To play your music quite so loudly, is there really any need?
From the people who are trying to read newspapers or books,
You certainly seem to be acquiring some pretty dirty looks.
At first, I thought you'd turned the volume up purely by mistake,
But now I realise that you are doing it just for annoyance sake.
I guess that your sole ambition was to be the star attraction?
I hope you feel you've achieved this by your current actions?
Your fellow passengers, you decided you would like to entertain,
But can't you tell from their faces, they think your music is a pain?
I'm sure many people share my view, but don't want to get involved,
So if you could switch your stereo off, the problem would be resolved.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stag Party
To the ‘stags' standing up in my carriage,
I realise that one of you is soon to be married,
But please couldn't all of you just take a seat?
And do I really have to listen to that beat?
No doubt you'll all be out on the town tonight,
But to disturb other passengers, you have no right.
Your spirits are obviously soaring way up high,
And I notice that the Guard has turned a blind eye.
Your weekend of fun, I do not wish to mar,
But you are on a train, lads: not in a bar!
You've all obviously had quite a bit to drink:
I wonder what our fellow passengers all think?
Why don't you save the high jinks for later on?
Then, if you want, you can even burst into song!
I had been planning to sit here and read my book,
But, out of the train window, I now sit and look.
The seats on the other carriages were mostly reserved.
Tone it down a bit! You're getting right on my nerves!
This particular carriage, I had no choice, but to pick,
And you guys are really starting to get on my wick.
You're chatting non-stop and laughing out loud:
Why do you have to be such an annoying crowd?
For other passengers, you have no consideration,
And I'm glad that you're leaving at the next station.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain and Hurt
born in to pain and hurt
growing in pain and hurt
living in pain and hurt
sleeping in pain and hurt
waking in pain and hurt
cuting in pain and hurt
bleeding in pain and hurt
crying in pain and hurt
i know nothing other then pain and hurt
i use drugs to end the pain and hurt
but all i get is pain and hurt
is there nothing other then pain and hurt
in this painful and hurtful world?
poem by Anna Sprague
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Joy on the Trains at Jubilee Time
At the station, the platform is packed.
Soon our train is heading down the track.
As our London-bound train slowly approaches,
I am surprised by the evident lack of coaches.
The ensuing rush to get on, is all rather manic.
The Guard blows his whistle and everyone panics.
Upon the platform, there's soon no one left,
But many new passengers are out of breath.
Once onboard, there is standing room only:
There's certainly no chance of being lonely.
Of vacant seats, I see there is a major lack,
So I stand, holding on to the luggage rack.
Some people are huddled up by the doors,
Whilst others plump for a seat on the floor.
At the next station, they don't release all the doors:
Our already packed train can only take a few more.
By the time that our train reaches Woking,
It's a real nightmare - I wish I was joking,
But passengers are left abandoned on the platform:
Their faces disappointed, they all look so forlorn.
I overhear a number of passengers complain
About the distinct lack of carriages on our train.
During my journey, I spend most of my time
Thinking up sentences which, nicely, rhyme.
By the time our train pulls in to Waterloo,
With my new poem, I am almost through.
We're ten minutes late and the Guard explains
This was due to passengers boarding the train.
When I head home again, it is getting quite late.
And the number of carriages now totals eight.
No one is standing: everybody has a seat.
I travel home in comfort. Oh, what a treat!
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why they take to their heels?
Two young men were on a flying bike,
took an abrupt turn to the right
and lost some of their limbs
dashing against a turning bus to the left.
The driver and the conductor got down
and ran off with all their might.
A passenger, being social, cried:
“ How can I reach my place?
I will torch the bus”
All the passengers stared at him in mute.
A gang of AIDS –borrowers
darted into a crowded bus
and looked daggers at all,
with scaring syringes manned by HIV.
Fear lent all the passengers wings
leaving alone the poor bus-crew
to beg the deadly traders
with looks so alrming!
'HIV can't be drizzled by injection'
wasn't known to common man those days.
A public vehicle fit to be thrown away
was trotting on the road,
mindless of the overtaking private buses.
Before its heart failed,
masked men wielding rusty choppers,
waylaid it, threw stones and petrol bombs
and set fire to it to get release their boss.
The bus-crew and the passengers
Knew no directions in their flight.
--
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pills for Pain. Blood for hurt
How much can a person endure
Before realising pills make the pain stop
They numb all feeling and leave you cold
Cold and dead inside
Pills for pain blood for hurt
It trickles slowly out
The harder you push the faster the hurt escapes
How can a person hurt themselves
When all they do is hurt
When you hurt emotionally physically is easier
Pills for pain blood for hurt
To be nobody to no one
To be unloved and unknown
I am know by the pills
They know me
They make me a someone
Pills for pain blood for hurt
To have a heart broken
Shattered and screaming for less hurt
To feel so much love and the next day non
Pills for pain blood for hurt
Love leads to pain
Caring leads to hurt
Pills for pain
Blood for hurt
Nobody to save me
poem by Maxine Isherwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleasure & Pain
You always said you loved me
Though my minds right now not sure
Youve always been there for me
Though my heart never feels secure
Why cant you take a further step
To let me know you really care
Cuz now Im feeling driven
Into a love thats not right there
[chorus:]
Why do you make me feel this way
Feeling betrayed, feeling pushed away
Why do you make me feel so bad
Feeling so hurt, feeling so sad
What have I done to make you turn
Im feeling so lost, Im feeling so burned
If you really cared youd make a change
So I could feel the pleasure and not the pain
After all Ive said
You still have it set in your head
That you dont really care about me
Why cant you seem to believe
That Im the only one for you
I gave all my love to you
And after all Ive done for you
You never say that you love me
The way that I love you
[chorus]
I feel all the pain, hurt so bad, feel so sad
It hurts so bad, it hurts so bad
I just cant take no more baby
Girl make a change
So I can feel the pleasure and not the pain
[chorus]
song performed by by 112
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knowing We Can Still Do That
You hurt me.
And when I healed from it,
I realized it was your hurt.
Something you wanted me to feel.
Something you chose to inflict,
To expose and dispose of my deepest emotions.
You left me wounded.
Have you mended from your pain?
What did you have to gain?
Strength to tell me you apologize?
That you can now look into my eyes to say that?
You hurt.
That look you loved I had for you,
Are there any remnants of it left to show?
To you...
No!
You hurt me.
We have hurt each other.
And knowing we can still do that,
Is not worth another round of dirt to throw.
Even though the hurt we both knew is gone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Done With All The Pain Im Done Getting Hurt
Im done with all the pain im done getting hurt-
Your over there getting jelous and thinking all i do is flurt-
Im done with all the pain im done getting hurt-
Your getting mad at me when your showing off that mini skirt-
Im done with all the pain im done getting hurt-
You dont even have manners, in front of my mom you decided to burp-
Im done getting hurt im done with all the pain-
We fight so much i feel like im going insaine-
Im done getting hurt im done with all the pain-
Every night you make me cry outside i see rain-
poem by David Oregon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Days
its been nothing but truth from the begining
but nothing but lies is how its ending
it took two days to arrive
why would you do this, why
'You really hurt them', this is all you fault
little phone conversations
to make sure i knew what she was thinking
go to the bathroom
she would follow
hotel room
her sleep was shallow
erica tried to talk
but mom continued to walk up
i know who hurt my sister
i've always kinda know he was a bastered
mom was so bitchy
so we sat quitely
guilt after guilt trip
trying to make it stick
telling me what to do
and what not to say
i don't havemuch time
music up loud thats my sign
mom continued to say
'Bill hung his ass'
and'i'm talking my life back'
i didn't let it show, how guilty i really felt
to get people involved
for them feel the rath of mom
theres not much to tell
it was just a living hell
the only giult i feel
is for the pain i caused, to the ones i love, for thats real
this was my battle from the beginning
and it will be until the end
the pain that people are holding now
is why i was always the ONLY ONE to try and find my way out
now i got to go
every so offten i'll leave a post
poem by Playdough Person
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain
This pain I feel I can no longer Stomach
its crying out for help but I won't let it leave
She's bottled up and can't get out,
she speaks as if she taking over me but she can't leave
This pain I feel she just can't get out cuz if she does,
she always over powers love.
She breaks it down into three different parts life, love and me
This pain that I feel is so strong she fights with my body all day long,
she tells me that pain is her pleasure, and to see me hurt,
is always a great please, bcuz now I know this pain is ME...
poem by Miizz. Beautiiful
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Quiet Zone
When travelling on a train, in the ‘Quiet Zone, ’
Why do people have to use their mobile phones?
Above the train’s rumble, they need to be heard,
So they speak very loud, so you hear every word.
On the window, there’s a picture of a phone, with a cross,
But, on some people, this request, to be quiet, is just lost.
They continue to talk on their phones, despite the sign,
And they seem to think that this behaviour is just fine.
People also sit with their earplugs plugged in;
Their music, loud, so you can still hear the din.
You can hear the annoying, tinny sounding beat.
The object of such a zone, such actions defeat.
The train staff can’t watch every passenger there,
But, this disturbance, to others, doesn’t seem fair.
If you’re sitting there, quietly, attempting to read,
With such interruptions, you will fail to succeed.
But, passengers, nowadays, are too scared to moan:
To point out that, this is, indeed, the ‘Quiet Zone.’
They worry that their reminder may be used as an excuse,
For the other person, to turn round and, at them, hurl abuse.
Passengers should show one another more consideration.
In the ‘Quiet Zone’, there shouldn’t be loud communication.
It’s a designated place for those who want to sit and relax;
Not speak loudly or turn their iPod volume up to the max.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Titanic
She was built in the city of Belfast;
She was a ship that was built to last.
She was rumoured to be unsinkable,
But, soon happened, the unthinkable.
She left the dockside, to the sound of cheers.
Her ballroom was bedecked with chandeliers.
On champagne and caviar, her passengers dined,
As they left Britain's shore far, far behind.
She steamed across the Atlantic Ocean,
Keeping good time, with a steady motion.
Little did her passengers know what lay ahead,
As they all lay there a-sleeping in their beds.
To avoid an iceberg, her Captain tried,
But ice put a hole in her starboard side.
Into her huge hull, the sea water gushed;
Along the decks, the water soon rushed.
Passengers were awoken from their sleep;
They knew that they were in trouble deep.
Endless tears flowed and lovers kissed,
As the mighty Titanic began to list.
Even when all hope had finally gone,
The band kept going, playing on and on.
Women and children were first to be saved,
But many of the men were lost to the waves.
What happened that night is a mystery,
But the Titanic went down in history.
She now rests down upon the sea bed;
A watery grave for her many dead.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Evening walk
Aimless mind slap bang
Coated out to spring
Dressed up, bear body hiding
Set out the old road along
The bus or the tram
Unless may be the train
To right or the left no plan
Time and space came
The side where I belonged to
The tram was on way from left to
Undecided space came think to
Opened the door just get into
Passengers were on seats
Passersby were in streets
Seemed to be direct targets
Looking at their end points
Planned and minded among
Blank and aimless I am
Getting down one by one
One and only in I am
Reverse way to the direction
Same as the tram to go again
Waiting for till times come
End or the beginning no aim
Passengers were on seats
Passersby were in streets
Driver is on the seat
I am also on my seat
All they know their aim
I don't have a plan
Left or the right same
Just for the pass time
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Me (song I Wrote)
I’m done with the pain (with the pain)
I’m done with the lies (with the lies)
I’m done with every thing
Baby you’re not meant to be
I hurt me self
Every day
When you left me…
All the heart aches
All the tears
Wasn’t worth you (no my dear)
I’m done with the pain (with the pain)
I’m done with the lies (with the lies)
I’m done with every thing
Baby you’re not meant to be
All the lies
I told my self
To keep me hanging on
Only hurt me more
Killed me inside
I bet you wont care
I’m done with the pain (with the pain)
I’m done with the lies (with the lies)
I’m done with every thing
Baby you’re not meant to be
You kill me
With every word
Every word you speak
Every word I read
That you say and send to me
It kills me
I’m done with the pain (with the pain)
I’m done with the lies (with the lies)
I’m done with every thing
Baby you’re not meant to be (with me)
X2
Baby you’re not meant to be
You’re not meant to be
Baby you’re not meant to be
With me…
poem by Jade Moore
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Call Me
I have a feeling for you son
I know you think the battle's lost
and that your thoughts are on the run
and you'll never meet the cost
I have a feeling for you girl
and though you're walking in a storm
alone you may be cold
but together well be warm
And now the room is empty
and now the phone is cold
and as the hours are passing
so the day grows old
and as the light is fading
don't breathe another sigh
and if you think of calling
don't let me pass you by
Tomorrow there will be no rain
tomorrow therell be no more pain
tomorrow if you feel the same
Call me, call me
Here's to everybody torn up by friends
here's to the evening that never ever end
here's to all the things we wished we'd never done
here's to the summers with no sun
here's to all the tramps, the beggars and the rich
here's to the fishers with no fish
here's to all the faces with no names
all the passengers on this train
Tomorrow there will be no rain
tomorrow there'll be no more pain
tomorrow if you feel the same
Call me, call me
I have a feeling in my bones
that I've been this way before
and if I'm ever here again
washed up outside your door
Call me, call me
call me...
Call me, call me
call me.......
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Have The Storms On Time
We have the storms on time
in time for more stories to tell
A ship sank carrying a load
of 600 passengers lost and
unaccounted,
A loaded boat
lost in the middle of Surigao
Trench,40 passengers lost
and unaccounted including
a new born child and a sick
mother and the expectant
father:
More stars are shining
tonight and then fade against
the black clouds and the strong winds.
And in the morning
a fifteen-minute silence
for all those that perished,
we say all our prayers in solemn silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hovercraft
In the distance, I spy its misty spray,
As it hovers over a sea of battleship grey.
Across The Solent, the hovercraft soars,
And I stand there watching it in total awe.
On the shingle shore, there gathers a crowd,
To welcome the hovercraft, with engines loud.
A sense of excitement fills the salty air;
At the approaching craft, I stand and stare.
As it reaches Southsea - its final destination,
The gathered crowd are full of fascination.
I've seen the hovercraft many times before,
But it seems to possess a magnetic draw.
Having left the sea full of salt,
Upon dry land, it draws to a halt.
The skirt of the craft soon deflates:
The air is expelled at a rapid rate.
Their short journey over, its passengers leave,
But the pilot has hardly any time to breathe.
Of passengers, there is a very quick turnaround,
And soon, once again, the craft is island bound.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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