The low down dirty old Underground blues

Why do we at break of day
Brace ourselves to plow the fray?
Surely Britons ain’t forgot
That queueing is our national sport?

Daily, though, I feel the thrill
Of elbows meeting ribs until
Inside and out, I’m black and blue
And panting and perspiring too.

There must be a better way
For me to get to work today,
But tube is quicker, you retort
We like to keep our journeys short!

Yet overcrowding and delays
Especially on ‘weather’ days
Are making this commuter frown
Each time she travels into town.

Claustrophobia

In cramped conditions do I note
The noose that tightens ’round my throat,
The stifling air of company
I fear is overcoming me.
Then I must find inside my head
A breathing space, a strength, a bed
To rest a while, and find my feet
Instead of crying in the street
Away, you dogs, and let me be!
I want no people hounding me.
For sleep I must, and don’t require
A watchdog, handcuffs, or a wire –
It’s not your business, what I think
And no, I don’t require a drink,
No numbing drug to cloud my brain
And chatter now drives me insane.
In short, you people, let me be!
I do not wish your company.