During the weeks before Christmas 

I started making mistakes 

Serious mistakes 

Very serious mistakes 

Which resulted in a rear end collision 

Near to the entrance of the tunnel 

Seventeen innocent people died 

Because of my incompetence

I had no idea why these mistakes occurred

But I was subsequently sent to prison 

Where I hung myself in my cell

As I could not live with the shame 

I now haunt my once loved signal box 

Which is just a dark decaying shell 

The line was closed soon after the crash 

As it was not paying its way but I knew the truth 

I had always known the truth 

The tall signal next to the boarded up tunnel 

Still stands at danger in the deepening undergrowth 

And the impressions of the tracks always fill with water 

During the weeks leading up to Christmas

 No matter the weather 

Colourful festive trains often pass my cold unlit box 

Their spectral journeys remaining unseen to all but me 

This is my true and final punishment