Doors Open, Doors Close

Doors open, doors close, screech!
Standing close to the train doors
Saved the three euro on a train ticket
Risking it, dealing with the nervousness
Relaxation: the controller won’t work on father’s day

But musicians do – and the homeless
Playing bad music, selling poorly printed papers
Climpering with cups
Each one asking for money, trying to make a living
Should I give him some money?

A man, tall, greasy hair, worn-out clothes
Mumbling something, shuffling down the aisle
Smiling a toothless smile,
as I drop a two-euro piece in his cup
Did I just pay him his next heroine shot?

Musicians enter, receiving applause at the end of their performance
I ignore them: another euro spent and I might as well have bought the ticket
A small man, selling the motz makes his way up to me, asking for money
I tell him: ‘I gave some to another one’, whilst realizing that this makes no difference to him
‘I hope you gave it to the right one’

Doors open, doors close, screech!

I hope so too

by Max Görlich, 16, John. F. Kennedy School, Berlin, Germany