A Vandaled Bus Stop Poem by paul anthony

A vandaled bus stop, a cold wet day,
Bus late, as usual, in the pouring rain.
A huddled crowd, silent in the shelter
Faces as gloomy as the weather.
A child follows the tricking water down,
Body snug in winter clothing, eyes intent
On his finger tracing an imaginary land,
Oblivious of the crowd and the passing time.
A man with a moustache shifts from foot to foot
Impatient, lips tight in a silent angry line.
An old woman stares straight ahead
Apathy stamped hard in her eyes.
Not wise, just old and tired eyes.
The bus comes, tyres swishing on the rain drenched road
Money clangs into the automatic slot
While the bored bus driver punches his button.
The child's mother struggles aboard
Shopping, pushchair, child clinging to her.
No one helps.
The old woman stumbles, not yet seated
Before the bus pulls away with a jerk,
The care less driver careless of his craft.