The Grass was Greener...

The midnight train chugs away,
And the day slowly comes to hault,
It has reached its destination,
And another journey must start...

I dream, as I sit by my window,
As another train goes by...
I dream about being on it, this time,
Headed to an unknown high...

Let the crisp air be the opiate,
Let the mountain be the oppressor,
Let me find solidarity in mustard fields, this time,
Let the books be my only saviour.

And in between dreams,
Of the meadows, evenings and a river side,
I get haunted by today,
And the reminder of another missed ride.