Simple Man – The poem

The life of a simple man begins often with a simple plan…
He checks the clock and packs his bag, The lunch full of rest-over snacks…
He checks the time and then he waits, At the stop – the queue he hates…
The bus is full but still he goes, The driver’s smoking in the first row…
The whistle, cursing and deafening thumps; People elbowing down the chumps…
Women harassed still standing quiet, as nobody wants to pick a fight!
He’s stuck in the middle – misses his stop, Should I complain to the ill-mannered cop?
Ah! Forget it!! And then he walks, in the office the same he talks…
The talk’s forgotten the very next day, who’s to blame? Who’s to say?
The man gets up late – It’s quarter to eight, He runs to the stop – again he waits…
The same routine, the same disgust; The same old curses, the same old dust…
And there he is – the simple man, A simple life – A simple plan!

2 thoughts on “Simple Man – The poem

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: