In Remembrance Of Columbia Poem by Cody Simpson

The faces passing me in the night,
All these streaks of white
Turning pink with the cold,
As I struggle to the bus stop
And sit down on a hard bench
To await my transport.
But the bus doesn’t run this late,
And so I have to walk five blocks,
No more faces to see,
Back to my car, parked alone,
Fearful of being mugged.
And when I get home,
The rooms are as empty as the streets,
And the white walls make me scream.