Pushing All The Wrong Buttons

“This Virgin West Coast train will soon arrive at Platform 4”

I grab my personal effects and head straight for the door

Now, what I’ve naively forgotten in my haste to leave the train

Is that I’m first to that green button – and the pressure is insane!

In several minutes time I will become a nervous wreck

As a legion of commuters start breathing down my neck

They’ll all be scrutinising to see if I delay

To get that train door open and shave a second off their day

But I’ve a second chance; my suffering denied

The platform we’re approaching maybe on the other side

In an act of desperation I push my face against the glass

Hoping to see rails instead of concrete rumbling past

But my reprieve is short-lived; this ordeal will come true

As the edge of platform 4 eases slowly in to view

The pressure is unbearable. A huge collective stare

“Why is he not pressing it? Their subconscious thoughts declare

In order to appease the crowd and defuse this madding scene

I start tapping at the button despite the fact it’s not turned green

And I can’t stop now, they’re watching. Soulless city worker eyes

“Open now you bastard!” my internal monologue replies

“Ding” – at last! The light comes on after what has seemed an age

One last furious tapping rep will release me from this cage

The noise of door mechanics is like music to my ears

The groans of agitation pass; my anguish disappears

I alight the train in deep relief and exhale a calming sigh

As London’s finest clamber past to offices nearby

I head towards the turnstiles reflecting on my fate

The next time I disembark a train I will procrastinate