The last train is nearly due
   The underground is closing soon
   And in the dark deserted station
   Restless in anticipation a man waits in the shadows
  
   His restless eyes leap and scratch
   At all that they can touch and catch
   And hidden deep within his pocket
   Save within his silent socket he holds his coloured crayon
  
   Now from the tunnel stony womb
   The carriage rides to meet the groom
   And opens wide and welcome doors
   But he hesitates then withdraws deeper in the shadows
  
   And the train is gone suddenly
   On wheels clicking silently
   Like a gently tapping litany
   And he holds his crayon rosary tighter in his hand
  
   Now from his pocket quick he flashes
   The crayon on the wall he slashes
   Deep upon the advertising
   A single worded poem comprising of four letters
  
   And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding
   The poem across the tracks rebounding
   Shadowed by the exit light
   His legs take their ascending flight
   To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night