Numbers

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Numbers
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419 is the bus I used to catch,
From a company of heroes,
Who took a stand before a giant monolith,
And played a last winning hand.

27 is the bus I catch to work,
Full of players upon a stage,
Living their own small play,
Seeking happy endings.

7, 11 and 24, houses I have lived,
Memories behind each door,
Each a different stage of life,
Fondly remembered from before.

4 is my favourite number,
The one I like the most,
Not associated with any memories,
But an old favourite friendly ghost.

Other numbers every day,
Every month, Every year,
All around me everywhere,
Numbers always reappear.