it only happens once each year,
Book the train and pack my gear.
The destination seems unknown,
as I sit there, all alone.
Something internal, in a rush,
just like the toilet, we usually flush.
Constantly staring at the clock,
Am I waiting for the flock?
Savour the moment, don’t wait for the end,
nobody knows, if I may extend.
Journey divided into equal parts,
today is another, we’ll add to the charts.
My train has left, from the town of birth,
hopefully located, on planet earth.
The next stop might seem the same,
It shall reveal, what I became.