With the red light flashing,
the baracades down,
the so near wistle screaching as it moves forward.  
Children playing stop to stare,
waving their arms in the air.
Going by, the wheels screaming
teh line up along the tracks is growing.
Traffic on teh other side,
slightly seen and waiting.
Looking, piece by piece dark green and brown flying bys
Polluted by colourful slander,
Minor vandalists leaving their mark with pride.
Leaving it for children to gaze up on,
innocent minds again tainted by teenage society.
Their slandercovering a once hapy feeling
a think that was worth getting excited about.
Memories burned to ruins...
and me standing silently... waiting for a return.
A glimmer of hope, or pride.  Not shame.