The seat
You must have witnessed
some things in your time.
A drunken brawl? First kiss?
You show no discrimination
when a booze-stained homeless
man asks if he can take a seat.
You don’t look down, pretend
not to hear or shake your head
and put up your feet.
You take the weight from their minds.
Watch as they get on and off
then return to the dark.
But those marks, scratches
in your skin. You feel
them but do not say anything.
