Darting as ants through the city of their queen,
Flashing their smiles are they rush,
Creeping through silent passages furtively,
As mandatory predators waiting for the ****,
Obscure collection of people hurrying between the pollutant fumes,
Mother snatches angel child's arm while dashing for the bus,
Old boy chokes on a wasted ****, discarded from another's lips,
She was sat upright on the 185,
She slumbered, in tranquility's dreamland,
Poor thing, laid across the spoils of her trip,
She did not wake,
The back floor of the bus awash with *****'s stench,
She was young,
Tried to wake her, without even a hint of a flicker behind her fatigued eyes,
Sorrowful, I felt as I  left her on the bus to her tide of ***** flow!
Livvi Kent June 2013