Out of the dark into the warm bright light,
Teenagers quickly going for coffee,
He nudges her, they laugh, but not quite,
As there enters another with hair all floppy;
Just middle-class teenagers lighting the fags,
Talking of you and him and the rest - the rest
Dressed in suede, plastic, velvet or rags -
The clothes do not matter, whether worst or best,
Lord, no! It's the empty shells inside,
Waiting, waiting.
For what - the coffee that's brewing?
Nothing to show, nothing to hide.
Please, why are we sitting, why aren't we doing?
Why doesn't someone stand up and scream?
Why all this smirking und winking and sighing?
Are we all blind, can't the truth be seen?
Everything's wrong,
We're not living,
We're dying.

G. O'Hagan, 5A