Lost Soul of the Station (a poetic crucifixion)

Of all the things my mind digests
(there’s plenty to perplex it)
I laugh today, across the way,
at he who missed the exit.

He walkses up and walkses back
and looks all round and round
He nearly walks onto the tracks
but luckily is found.

They point him in the right direction
yet he still walks past
This wily gate evades detection
– surely this can’t last!

But sure enough betwixt two poles
a fencely gap appears
He walks on through, oblivious,
My laughs are sprouting tears.

He stops a spell, he turns again,
mind changing, it would seem.
He is not where he wants to be,
Confusion reigns supreme

His face is blank, his jaw is slack
We both become awares
that all along this poor lost soul
was looking for the stairs!!

(Some artistic licence was used in this poetic butchery of the English language)