"Nicked"

I hate it when you never
Have the end to a story
And you have to make it up
Like right now.
There he is with a copper
Placing a hand on his head
On his way to a concrete
Slabbed cell for a bed.
He was going without a fuss
As I went past on a bus.
So what did he do?
I'll never find out
To be honest hand on head
It won't keep me awake
Lying in my bed
Whatever he's done I'm not fuss'd
Just passing time sat on a bus.
The thing is deep down I'm just like you
We're all nosey gits.

Dulwich Poet 27th March 2013.

(On a bus toward Lewisham earlier today, I saw a man being put into a police car, out of the window)