Waiting For Life

Threw this together while I was sick. Haven't really edited at all. Tired. *Yawns* So, what d'you think? ^^

on the gray-green plastic bench.

I wait.
I watch the relentless surge of life
all around me, faces materialising
for a handful of moments and then
trickling past the fingers into
the deep pool awning below,
a pool of souls futilely struggling
against the dragging current.

I wait.
I hear the rushing of the trains behind,
but know they aren't there for me.
I hear the hungry roar of the wind as it
ravages my body and whips strands
of hair into my eyes which I blink away.
Through the tears I strain and peer at the
boring, blinking timetable; it's late again.

I wait.
I feel the gentle lapping of icy
teeth on my half-exposed skin.
I try not to think about the numb
fingers curled uselessly in my lap,
or the miserable extensions of meat
resembling toes on my sodden feet.
I clench my teeth, trying not to flinch.

I wait.
A red neon light penetrates the rush,
a beacon of calm in the foaming sea.
As it closes in on me, the light twists
into a pair of numbers, vaguely familiar.
When the double-doors slide open
infront of me with a hiss, a soft cone of
inviting illumination, I am sure it is mine.

I get up.
I wearily alight the worn, steel stairs.
An ancient man with a cap shadowing his eyes
smiles at me from behind the wheel and
bids me, "One euro, twenty cents, please."
I fish in my pockets for the metallic clinks
that I bring into the light for inspection;
three dull coins that amount to exact change.

I look up.
A carved carricature of a calloused hand
extends toward me, beckoning for the money.
I look down at the coins and then at the driver;
I grin and say, "I'm afraid I'm short a little."
Turning my back on the bus, I walk back to
the station and watch the doors close shut
on another chance with deadening finality.

I sigh deeply and smile, then lazily settle down