The London Train.

Tired eyes,concealed sighs,
 Aching bones,tired feet,
Shops closing,darkness falling,
 Another day a funny game,

We'd all got macks and hats on,
 All were soaking wet,
Each looked quite unhappy,
 We'd all seen better days,

Busses trundle,rumble bumble,
 Running over ginger cats,
Number sevens going no where,
 Just the place for rainy days,

Mrs Wendle gets her flask out,
 Pours a cup of steaming soup,
On the platform every Friday,
 Waiting for the London train.


                           Tony