Smitten Sid

He shuffles in

Gives her a grin

Jangles his coins and sits

She’s too busy to see

Whilst drinking her tea

That poor smitten Sid’s in bits

Everyone else just gossips

Reads red-tops

Or stares into space

He sits in the spot

By Machine 23

Just so he can look at her face

He can’t drag his eyes away from her

From the tattoos

To the ring on her hand  

He’d love to take her out dancing

Buy flowers, make future plans

He pretends to himself that she would too

But really he knows

Deep down in his heart

That he’ll never be her man.