Poem: Forgotten Travellers

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Forgotten Travellers
 
The smell of cheap tobacco and diesel fumes,
Overhead lights bleaching colour from the world;
Globs of chewing gum dotted along the cold stone floor.
It’s the darkest hour, no stars to light this place.

Forgotten travellers curled up on the floor,
Clutching their belongings, overtired, freezing cold.
Suspicious eyes scan an unfamiliar face,
One more invisible warrior, never going home.


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