When the rain cleans the leaves, from the classroom awning
I walk to the hospital carpark, yawning.
Treading over makeshift graves for dead leaves,
I think to myself 'They've left home, they've left the trees.'
Sarcastically wondering why I can *** a smoke from cancer patients in mouring.
Constantly reading the same signs,
'No Parking'
'No Smoking'
'No Loitering
But I know I've been here far too long,
When the shattered, sick and weak tell me to move along.