A voice upon the passing wind.
The traffic
and the festive lights.
Stood outside another pub
he dreams about her hazel eyes.
Although the rain is falling
he can't feel it on his skin.
His thoughts,
a thousand miles away.
Lost to her
and everything.
Watching people passing,
he wonders bout their lives.
He hopes that their all happy, safe
as they fade out of sight.
Christmas decorations,
wrapping paper
five for a pound.
He pulls ******* the cigarette
Then picks his heart up off the ground.