Stuck in Sleaford
or: A rant about the East Midlands Train Service, with rhyming.

From September until May,
Same procedure every day,
Catch a train; get a ticket to pay,
And then get stuck in Sleaford.

I’ve already missed the professor’s recall
Of the lecture he held the week before
That I didn’t succeed in attending at all
Because I was stuck in Sleaford.

I arrive at last, an hour late.
“The lecture’s already over, mate.”
I’m going to fail at this rate
Because I was stuck in Sleaford.

Already bored, I turn around,
And head toward familiar ground,
I wait for a train that’s homeward bound,
And hope I get out of Sleaford.

I ask the staff, they always say,
“The trains are running on time today,
Everything’s fine, there’s no delay,
And you won’t get stuck in Sleaford.”

Five fifteen departure planned.
Five thirty - it barely ran.
Already I know where I’m going to land,
I’m going to be stuck in Sleaford.

The train arrives. I’m left alone.
I’ve missed the connection. I reach for my phone.
I call my dad; “I won’t be home,
Tonight I’m stuck in Sleaford.”