On a Bench

On a bench

I can smell the ocean air
Salty and dirty
I see the pigeons shit on the sidewalk
Waddling freely with nothing
To worry about on his mind

I see a homeless man sleeping in the grass
And I wonder how he ended up there
 He smells of vomit and alcohol
But he lays soundlessly listening
To the local oldies station

A man on roller skates
Holds hands with his girlfriend
They seem so happy together
Like nothing can tear them apart
Waiting for the end of the day

And here I am on the bench
Alone with notebook and pen in hand