Camellia

Camellia was nothing
Just a station to pass through
After I got on at Rydalmere
Those cold mornings in 2018
I waited on a small platform
Patiently changed at Clyde
Changed to a crowded 'real train'
Changed into a crowded 'real person'
Camellia was everything
It was me yearning for a purpose
It was someone else's life
Someone important's life
Like whoever built Camellia
I'm not someone important
I have feelings but they're nothing
They haven't helped me at all
They've misguided me
I've endowed them too much importance
Frosty Camellia mornings stay with me though
They mean something to me
Something frozen but lost
Perhaps they'll be the final memory
In an expiring old man's brain
Departing with that memory
Of her final morning departure