THERES RAIN FALLING IN MY CHIPS

Francesca Gugliotta, May 2003

Standing at the bus stop My hands are numb My feet have turned to ice I wish the bus would come Ive waited half an hour Still it has not shown Id have sat inside the caf If only Id have known Theres rain falling in my chips My baked beans have gone cold I no longer want to eat This dinner Ive been sold The polystyrene box It floods with water from the sky The people stood around me They begin to catch my eye An old lady with her shopping She shivers by my side Her painful arthritis She finds it difficult to hide Unstable and alone She only wants to die The raindrops from her heaven Disguise her secret cry

Down the line a young girl Shes barely turned sixteen She gently rocks her arms To shush her babies scream Unstable and alone Unsure of what to do The patters on the pavement Disguise her soft boohoo Sheltered in a pram It still lets in the rain The tiny baby wails His teething causes pain Unstable and alone In an unfamiliar place The waters raining down Disguise his teary face Standing at the bus stop My hands are cold A grey-haired lady All wrinkled and old A mother with a pram Her tiny baby cries The worlds emotions echoed In teardrops from the skies