Commuters pass a pile of tat,
Some rubbish that they might have thrown,
Old blankets, cups, a grubby hat,
One shoe unlaced all on its own,

A box, a bag, a bottle smashed,
A mound of fags only half smoked,
A wallet robbed of all its cash,
A wire loose from something broke.

One T-shirt stained, one treasure gained,
The man collecting scraps alone,
A pane is missing from its frame
Once on the wall of someone’s home.