I saw you on the train that morning.
You looked so misshapen,
With your superfluous lower lip protruding,
Like the petal of a rose,
Damaged by morning dew.
Your eyes wondered,
Like glass marbles, pouring
Distain into all you knew.
Like a diamond in the rough,
You were there among the grey,
Shaped into nothing but Solemness.
A Solemner.
Lost in the morning,
Of heavy tides and and matchstick lives,
Disappearing completely.
Those eyes, those cheeks,
That imploring gaze,
Made me no Solemner
Then a man could be.
Such beauty,
Pittance,
Wasted through the day,
As it seeps through the drain,
Like water.
Down it falls,
Never to be seen again.