Judgement and a tired soul,
That’s what I hear.
Loads and loads of forwards,
Endless group suggestions,
That’s that else I hear.
Of multicoloured sweaters,
and the white tubes:
scented with stories of yesterday.
That’s the other thing, I hear.
a hesitant anxious heart gasps,
dawn is fighting to break through,
the rumble transcends into a crashing thud,
it’s nothing but the rain…