Round and round the Circle Line
in endless pursuit of me and mine.
Familiar scenes go hurtling past,
each new vision much like the last;
grief and suffering, hate and pain
coming round again and again.
Where are the stops where the doors slide back
and offers a respite from the circular track?
Would I exit if I could?
Is there any choice but “should”?
When the stations slide into view,
is there a way out for me? And you?
The train slows down and signs appear,
once more decision time is near.
(Poem from WAVES)