rusty bridges

Old rusty bridges
Tell stories of steam engines;
There was once a time
When the cars were carriages,
The rich were aristocratic,
And for the poor there were atrocities;
But we would skip that part,
And take only the positive;
There would be gentlemen in suits
And ladies in sarees,
Porters in red uniforms on the railway station,
And station master with his flag and lantern,
There would be steam engines puffing their way
Onto the rusty bridges,
Into a past happy and imaginary.