Station

it rains
it´s cold
the darkness of the night
approaches
I feel the freezing wind
blowing in my face
taking  pieces of it
I feel the sadness of this station
the people hurring to catch
a bus or the train
always heading in or out
like automatons
with empty eyes.
I look at them all
each of them a world
a hell in their own.
I´ll never know.
Some of them hold hands
cheerfully chatting with their mates
it sounds so vain
a man in a turquoise jacket
sits next to me
he rolls his tobacco
and light his smoke
he is in trance
delighted by a joint
I sink my eyes like knives on his face
to show my disgust
after a while it doesn´t matter anymore
this creature thirsty of destruction
it´s too numb to realize
that I am still around.