Bus Stop

The old woman took off her blouse

To wrap around her head

To fight off the beating sun

It was way too hot

The day the rotund girl with red cheeks

Rocked her infant sucking milk

From a dirty bottle

It was hard to tell her age

As her cheeks hid her features

She could have been pretty in another life

In society’s eyes

But the misery shown on her face

Told tales of tears at bed time

A drunken one night stand

And parents that fed her up too much

When she was a mere infant herself.

From the window of another bus

Pretending to do what I should do

But sunshine and forgetfulness

Make it way too easy to gaze

Out of these bus windows

And watch the world drift along.

A red postman’s cart tied to a lamppost

While its driver sucks on a beer

In a gloomy smokeless bar

The bakery is empty, but Greggs is packed

Urban trees trying to be green

Chinese take-aways open for business

Pawn broker screams a canary yellow facia

Fat dads walk even fatter kids

And the girl at the bus stop starts to cry.

And I’ll never know why.

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