Give us back the seats in public space

When in pain, the world is made of seats
Where one can gain a moment of relief
Ignored are flowers however fair and pure
When pain  grows strong,we cannot  gaze,revere

But since the homeless lie on  seats at night
The council have removed them from our sight
The bus stop , seats of plastic , hurt me sore
Till I am wracked   with pain  I once ignored

I need gardens with low walls of stone
Where I  may sit and softly, clearly moan
My coat is spoiled  and now I feel  my rage
I’m no longer on the human stage.

Yet bees die if they sting us in  defence
Little in the world makes any sense