He sits on the train everyday, all day, all night long
his heavy eyelids mask the unfamiliar faces that haunt the carriage,
His slippers mould and melt into the floor,
His skin scaled and blistered.
His hair uncombed and slippery.
He smells of human faeces
Ill call him Jack. I wish I could bring him home and give him a bath...
No comments:
Post a Comment