Swindon bus station,
Everyone fixed to their screens
Mine out of battery
The patchy street birds
have a tiresome industry
Looking for anything to digest,
other than old amber leaf
In front of me, I pitch a family
from a war torn Country,
from a war torn Country,
I wonder about their future
The wave of support oily politicians
get in writing them off,
Sticking the needle in their life raft
get in writing them off,
Sticking the needle in their life raft
The little one is crying,
but occasionally a beaming sunshine
His brother has learnt to
rearrange his hat, rock the pram,
while the Mother contemplates her carousel
rearrange his hat, rock the pram,
while the Mother contemplates her carousel
Her garments are not very well co ordinated
but smart and colourful in their own right.
but smart and colourful in their own right.
The little one kicks off his blanket,
his pyjamas are Disney.
Perhaps he'll get there one day.
Until then, Swindon Bus station.
.
his pyjamas are Disney.
Perhaps he'll get there one day.
Until then, Swindon Bus station.
.