in my self defence...

In his self defense The apocalyptical scenes of the Mad Max movies Is not so far away these days Looking through the dotty mash On the window of the late hour train, To where we call it home. Only they had mashes made of steel, We have money made commercials. Tell me what color is the train? So i can write a poem about it. About the face, That i saw on the other side of my window, And about love, Waiting on the station, For his other half to come. They tried to ban graffiti on the trains, Now they stick to commercials Tell me what color is the train? In my defense... The loss of love is greater, Than the loss of trees. The Rain forest doesn't hold enough water, To match the flood of tears. The loss of known patterns Is greater than the loss of friends I never was much of a dancer The march of a hundred men, Where numbers count to nothing? Stumping feet demanding The pattern of the next move. That stampede of feelings Goes through my ears With its rhythm Taking me away.... To the place they called home The blank pages Of things i have never written They are my dancers in the wind Me... myself... i never was much of a dancer. Iron flaps of an iron shaft. Rusted on the concrete wall, Of the gray, closed down factory... In the land that i love and call my mother... Those are my dancers They came without a fight Waving flags of sympathy... They took her and made her a slave... I'd ask my brothers To take them away... In an infernal dance of war... Me... i never was much of a dancer In my defense i forgot to write, because i can update my status every single minute On the book of faces And i can change it right from wrong From left to right. The tone is my rhythm The water line is sound... The melody is the pattern. So i wonder... From time to time... Can you tell me... What color is the train? He asks me: “can i seat down?” In a strange language i don't understand “no,” i reply. All of the sudden I have two workers Sitting next to me... One, the one right next to me, Smells of booze and sweat... Left and right. Both strangers. i lay down my coat, The silver edelweiss shines on it... Why me? Does it look i'm friendly? i just need peace, i need a war To stay away from them. Of what they represent. They speak in codes, i can clearly see their dark lips moving, But i don't understand their words... Their dark eyes, This land has never given birth to... The one sitting next to me sneezes... 1, 2, 3 times... Spreading his disease... i'm not a Nazi, If i just don't want to catch anything from him. Finally they leave Than an old man with special needs i could write a new chapter of Camus’ The Stranger He's acting weird. i wasn't the only one to notice, Someone sitting next to me is smiling. i smile back... Than i notice it's just a reflection in the mirror A reflection by the mash That keeps me in... In the prison of commercials On the late night train...