Man On The Bus Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Man On The Bus



I am the man on the bus
I sat on your left last Tuesday
I am balding, nondescript, meek
I am dressed in shabby clothes

You with your tip-top, incarnadine nails
Your businesswoman's suit
Chose not to notice me

Once I was a boy who always raced
Under the careless wheel of a passing lorry
I learned young to moderate my pace
What lessons, fellow traveller have you learned?

Monday, June 2, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: man
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