Stealing this moment, watching it drift away.
Spit on his feet,
he stays silent.
You crush your cigarette on his cloak,
he stays still.
With tears rushing down your face
you weep to the sky.
Looking at his plastic smile,
waiting for it to speak, make itself known.
The clocks still turning.
Life passing by
as you sit in the rain,
at the bottom of the stairs leading into church.