Tuesday, 22 April 2008

Pointless Poetry

Pointless Poetry from the Bus Seat #4

My neighbour's in a horrid way:
His suit and hair and skin are grey;
He rubs his eyes and kneads his head;
His ears and nose and eyes are red.
I'd like to help him - see him through;
We'd walk to where the sky is blue.
He stands to leave; I stand and smile.
I hope that keeps him safe awhile.

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