Bus window
Others play
As I sit alone
Not a soul
We need one another
We work in groups, us.
Nina sings in my ear
In foreign French tongue
But I can guess at melancholy
I am not wicked,
I do try
I'll tell you frankly
In this ocean of people
Swimming with no school, or
A tight knit outfit
Is what I thought I'd have this winter
But I'll have to get by in this thin shirt
No comments:
Post a Comment