Special k.
It’s been a long long winters day
I’ve been a long long way away
Driving but not arriving home
Always passing others days
Others weeks and others ways
I am the stranger in the rain
Passenger on the train
Standing by the doors
shadow in others hours
Distain of the middle class
background artist to others lives.
They glance and look away and
at a road side café
between
Coffee cups and sausage rolls
Half Empty plates and wasted trays
I’m the passer by in their eyes
I am memory grey
the shadow in their story
gods own people
The perfect people
Narrating my own narrative
never really here. Never really me
Never really coming home
witnessing them witness me
But standing apart
alone
