Its 6:01, Farringdon Platform 1
Shattered souls craned necks
And twiddling thumbs.

The fool in the know.
The first to know; the last to accept it.

Here stood reflecting.
Silently condemning a life accepted
Reams of fleeces overground and understated.
Shrouded from sheering myself.

The fool in the know.
The first to know; the last to accept it.

How my hem has freyed
No, not from loft today
Through rubbing ankles under desks,
To metamorphose
To a child cocooned blanket bound
Rubbing ankles dreaming sound
I dream as the child dreamt
As a baby longed to feel
      I long for what I have felt