To The Man At The Bus Stop Poem by Estefano Molina

I woke up this morning
because I decided to open my eyes
Well, I had to go to work
to provide
as any man should
one can't complain
at least their is a job to go to
I put my clothes on
as they were laid out from the night before
I dragged myself to the kitchen
drank from the milk carton
put my ragged shoes on
haven't cleaned the stain
made by an unknown substance
like a sloth I brushed my teeth
fixed my hair
which is in need of a trim
I make my way to the screeching door
lock it as if their are valuables inside
what are they gonna rob?
my sofa?
It's a great morning I tell myself
with an immense amount of sarcasm in my thoughts
I hate today
I'll hate tomorrow as well
I get in my car
needs gas
no surprise
but it'll have to last
I take the usual route
yell obscenities at fellow commuters
It's beautiful
Then I get to this lonely intersection
and I see him
at the bus stop
He's there as usual
rain or shine
cold or hot
His company hat on
worn jeans and a light sweater
cigarette in his mouth
He's seen some tough years
One can tell by just a glance
he is used to this
I wonder how he does it every morning
and I think I have it rough
I wave at him as usual
he waves back with a smile
I nod my head
I admire him
As I drive away he stands there
the same as he was
The sun is bright this morning
beams shine through the trees
the cool breeze is refreshing
It sure is a hell of a morning
It's beautiful
no sarcasm
So this is to you old man
Have a good day