Pierre Seton

The Boy

The boy waits under the station overhang,
Protected from the rain,
Falling from grey clouds past the grey statue
, onto grey people lacking The will to trap you,
The bus arrives dismal lights cutting through a dismal haze,
Aboard dismal people each with a dismal gaze,
The broken ferry rolls forth,
Carrying broken thoughts and broken wills,
Broken lives reduced to a deluge of broken pills,

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