the abiding
By benafim
The Abiding Business. A waited for you till I was tired of waiting, Then I waited some more. Until the clock on the wall, in the railway station, Struck twelve and the town was a waste bin. Where I drowned in chip paper, crumpled fag packs, Half eaten apples, and spat out gum. Before street cleaners came and swept me away, I wondered if you ever would come? 'Cause I had left My bouquet of roses on the window ledge and hoped The sweepers would miss it. Guess not, thorny roses slapped me in the face As I churned around in the belly of a mechanical Elephant. Written November 19th, 2001 © on Nov 18 2001 05:28 PM PST 0 • 14
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"The Abiding Business...."