Different Life, s
Sitting on the top deck,
I watch the swirling lights,
shine brightly on the rain
lashed paines, late at night.
Staring into passing windows,
some dim, some bright.
I see, reflecting stores,
of different life's, different times.
The shapes echos tories
of what lies beyound,
each one different to behold.
Some warm, inviting.
others harshand cold.
Their differences intrigue me.
I paint a picture in my head,
using blocks of colours,
Some blue, some green some red.
Each one hidden
and out of sight,
Their secrets held,
within the mystery of the night.
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Comments about this poem (Different Life, s by Elaine Battersby )
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