16. December 2014 - A Poem inspired by TFL, London Overground, and a Friend's Sinterklaas Party

Dear TFL, I'd love to know
Why all your trains are a no show;
Been waiting, freezing, sniffling, cussing,
But the train is still amissing.
There's silence on the intercom,
The board claims there is nothing wrong.
Still, there's no train to Islington,
Just Dalston Junction; thanks a ton.
Though even that, believe you me,
Is nowhere that the eye can see.
So when I ask the poor attendant,
He shrugs he's shoulders, unrepentant,
"The system's down," he says, quite dapper,
"We now rely on Citymapper."


I thought with rising ticket fares,
You could afford some better wares,
Where in the case of system failing,
Redundancy would heal that ailing.

But no, there is no information,
My patience now is on probation,
No squeak, no squawk, no "We are sorry!"
Just a board that says "Don't worry,"
"The next train will be just a smidgeon."
Reality's in contradiction:
The platform now is full of waiters,
Slowly turning into haters,
Of full, delayed or lacking trains,
Some info really takes no brains,
Just tell us that you have messed up
And that you'll treat us in the pub.
As you will learn from this here letter
A pint, trust me, is far more better
Than claiming that there'll be a train
And making me wait toats in vain.
It's cold this time in Haggerston,
You made me late, you owe me one!