Metro

Beneath the city’s hurried tread,
the metro hums a steady thread,
of steel and light, of rush and sigh,
where strangers meet beneath the sky.

Each carriage sways like pewter tide,
the doors exhale, the rails glide,
a subterranean river flows,
carrying hopes, and dreams, and woes.

In London’s veins the underground
beats on, a pulse, a constant sound,
where every stop a story keeps,
and night and day the metros sleep.