The distant echo -

of faraway voices boarding faraway trains

To take them home to

the ones that they love and who love them forever

The glazed, dirty steps - repeat my own and reflect my thoughts

Cold and uninviting, partially naked

Except for toffee wrapers and this morning's paper

Mr. Jones got run down

Headlines of death and sorrow - they tell of tomorrow

Madmen on the rampage

And I'm down in the tube station at midnight

I fumble for change - and pull out the Queen

Smiling, beguiling

I put in the money and pull out a plum

Behind me

Whispers in the shadows - gruff blazing voices

Hating, waiting