Sunken he was in his seat
Solemn eyes that shouldn’t be
The deaden fluorescent light
Lit against the backdrop of
Teenage infinity, I could see it
Besides the railroad tracks they ran
It begs the question of
Whether the foreign soul atrophies when weary youth fouls
The expired physical, costing
Stupid, gentle pride, now instead gently folded
Onto the absence below his left knee
Quiet disparity telling
In his ginger grasp on the bus stop
Upon his severe cheeks inlay
Early retirement undue,
If only the train had roared louder