A past winter
I did something out a line
I drove a cab
But for a short time
This new look on life
Gave me reason to rhyme
I watched the sun come today
Waiting for a fair
To come my way
Morning joggers ran on by
Chasing a runners high
There are people who ride with me
Who seek a high in the rye
This thing called booze
Will make you lose
All good you've ever gained
Goes right on down the drain
Never to be seen again
Remember the next time
You reach for the rye
The cheapest high
You'll ever buy
Is the healthy run
Of a runners high
Nick Krakana
February 13-2011
Timmins - Ontario
Canada
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Profound wisdom, and great rhyme... The cabbie's eye is a keen observer of human nature.