Stepping on grave stones in mid November
My pipe dreams faded out
I'm a bit lonely these days
or should I say most days
since you've been gone

The winter never felt so warm
and the sky seems lower now
Closer to the ones that left it.
Close to us, the two who thought we would be able to touch it

There was freedom in her heart
and a burden buried in mine

There were smiles between us
old photographs and sad songs
Cheap *** and that same sad ******* song

I lost you
I lost you and I'm so sorry
I held on as long as I could

Now it's late December
Where is she hiding?
Darling are you asleep?
Persephone don't come back when I know you can't stay

I'm so hopeless I just might pray
to a god I don't believe in
It's invasion day and I'm crashing onto shore
They say all's fair in love and war
but I don't see the difference
When your face down
and dying is the only thing
you have faith in anymore

I'm in love with a ghost
Queen of the underworld
who couldn't keep a promise
so she kept my soul instead

Waiting in the train station and to my surprise
The train conductor's smoking, doesn't care at all
He walks right over and asks,
"What're you waiting for? Get on"

I'm sorry I'm not riding the train today
I am waiting for me sister, she's on the next train
I haven't seen her for the longest time
And I heard she bought a cat

His eyes grew large like an atom bomb
My words caused him a panic, I don’t know why
Sausage fingers now points in my direction
And this is what he said,

"Right you little rat, I got a bone to pick
Now you getting on that train because I told you too
And if you don't I will break your nose
Then I'll steal all your cash"

His meaty aroma flooded my nasal duct
Just to make him leave I walked into the train
The whistle blew, the wheels spun on
Now it's my sister's turn

Mind in transit,
Wandering the city with a subway heart.

Waiting for the bus and beginning to lose my mind...

A minute turns to four, then twelve and now half an hour has passed me by...

Time keeps ticking, the sun keeps setting and the longer I sit the more I feel my rot

Calling to hear what I already know-- The bus aint' coming...And my inpatients grows!

No further ahead, no closer to my goal...

Just left behind...

                           By the bus that never showed

So many things are lost in transit
In haste, to unload the luggage  
Unaware of the fragile things
Shoved away in haste to unload  
When I open the luggage
Thousands of broken pieces
Cutting deep into my hands
Bleeding profusely from the wounds
Losing valuable things in transit
Wounds that will stay forever

You don't look like I know you should; your clothes, your hair, your body and your accessories speak to a culture that I do not understand.
I'm not even sure I want to.

Before you cry hate realize that I am not speaking to the colour of your skin; pigment has zero relevance to the way you were raised, the friends you chose or who you are as you stand before me in this modern society.

The alien I find in you are the choices you've made, or rather the very few choices you've made as you've allowed the flavours of the masses to salt your very being, laying the foundation for the same row houses on each block, 'we' nothing more than automations that turn right, vote left and drive straight on into the witless death of 'our' meaningless life. Group hug.

I obviously am not talking about you; you read this poem and judge it unworthy or not and write your own birthing thoughts not yet authored, cutting yourself free from the tether of normality making the awakening of social consciousness possible.

Or perhaps I'm just another ******* on the train wearing awesome golf pants coming back from the game that takes more than it gives griping about life and those that don't live it or love it.