Cattle Cars

The crowd surges forward as if by force.
Pushed in by the hundreds, piled on top of each other.
Holding on to each other for support.
The train jerks and sways, pushing people back and forth.

Packed to capacity, more people are shoved in.
The doors close.
There is no room to fall.
Hardly any air to breath.

Once, the doors were locked.
There was no escape.
People cried. Pleaded. Begged to be set free.
But were sent to their deaths.

Now, there is laughter.
The cars are air-conditioned.
The ride is short.
The people, moderately polite.

And at the end, the doors will open with a beep.
The people will spill out,
and go their separate ways.
Whether to work, or home, or to the movies.

But always, always,
to freedom.