Stationary Balloon.... Poem by karen sinclair

There is a discomfort where the rain drips
Unchained
Distorting where greens and greys merge
Blurring the rouge balloon of small child
Stationed
And the tears she sheds
Tears
Tears and smears
Unseen unheard

The stationmaster whistles for attention
So offensively by his wife ignored
Whilst a crisp packet rustles and wretches
Old man scratches
Yawns and bored

A newspaper settles across a young suit as he nestles down to snooze
Small brown bag in dirt clad hands disguises
Ancient casket drinkers
Booze
Booze
Booze

As she rests reflective pon cool glass
Breaths meander within lost thoughts
As it pulls off from the station
Theres a silence in melding minds
And faces trained
Stand wrought