Sonnet to a Bricked-Up Window

Oh ticket office, ticket office, why
Is your fair window really gone for good?
However much I touch or hard I try
The robot can not serve me like you could
If you had closed ’cause I don’t have to pay
If transport were a public service, free
I’d no more need to use you anyway
Or miss your glazed familiarity 
But still the faceless charge a fortune fare
Top up, touch in, don’t clash with that machine 
Oh ticket office, now that you’re not there
The pers’nal touch is lost to some touch screen
– I’m human and I’m needy, I confess
– My journey is now human contactless

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