I sit here on the corner. That park bench, Next to the tall buildings
It smells of smoke Overworked waitresses and workers sit where I sit day in and day out Wonder when things are going to get better Sit down with there sorrows Chain smokers who just want it to be over I breathe it in because I am lost as well I sit where the cars rush past, and don't stop for anyone Where the sounds of people and cars clash on sidewalks and in the air The bench where no one wants to sit, but has to in times of desperation lost hope and sadness Here I sit. On the streets, and on the bench Where a novel could have been written Where that man passed out drunk Where people of all races and creeds have sat and waited for an everlasting peace in their lives Something that never came Amongst trench coats and stained college sweatshirts are those who have sat here The bench and the street more like it
It does not discriminate Everyone of every class, race, gender, religion shares the bench Not a single word can describe the hate Sadness and lonliness That has occurred on that bench And yet here I sit I breathe it in