The Wrong Train by walking shadow poetry.

I boarded a train called us,
Excited for the journey,
Hoping it would lead somewhere special.
The ticket was my heart,
And I gave it willingly,
Not knowing how far we’d go.

At first, it felt right,
The laughs, the late-night talks,
The promises that sounded like forever.
But as the miles went by,
The doubts crept in,
Little signs that whispered,
“This isn’t your destination.”

I stayed, though.
Told myself, “Maybe it’ll get better. Maybe this is just a rough patch.”
But deep down, I knew.
The stops came and went,
Opportunities to leave,
But I stayed seated,
Too afraid to get off,
Too scared to admit I had chosen wrong.

With every passing moment,
The return trip got harder
Not in money, but in time,
In emotions spent on something
That was never meant to be.
The further I went,
The more pieces of myself I left behind.

I should’ve gotten off at the first sign
The first time the silence felt heavier
Than the words we spoke,
The first time the love felt like a chore
Instead of a choice.

But I stayed,
Hoping against hope that it would turn around.
Now, here I am,
Realizing the cost,
Knowing it’s time to step off
Before I lose more of me
In this endless, directionless ride.

It’s hard, walking away,
Hard to accept that not all journeys
End where we want them to.
But sometimes, the wrong train
Is just a lesson in knowing
When to let go and start again.