They sat in their line

Blue chairs , metal flaking

Metro station with their wine

Fingers puffed and aching

Sat next to the exit sign

Drunk beyond pain and faking


Pool of wine pool of piss

Away from life’s pain

Lost in their alcoholic mist

All day drink,drunk in vain

They know nothing’s list

Nothing to lose, lots to gain?


Still there when we come back.

Sat in the chairs, eyes shut

Hunched far away from lack?

Wine spilled , wine glut

Drunk so much they hack

And curse at the track.


Trains goes by, people get on , off

Not looking at those men, knuckles clenched

They’ve been there so long ,they dont give a toss

And life’s game passes by , from grip’s wrenched

Hard drugs or soft , they’ll gather their moss

Stinking and sinking thirst never quenched



Those ghosts on metros benched.

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