That seat in front
This one on the other side
Those others all around
Filling up fast
But the one next to me
Is spare
The mommy with three kids
Young couple holding hands
An old man with a stick
All give me a look
But the pretty lady with the book
Just passes coldly by
Hey! The seat next to me is spare.
About the missing owner
Of the seat next to me that is bare
Many thoughts begin to flare
Careless? Boss? Accident? Death?
Thinking these thoughts with care
About the missing owner is more than I can bear
With this wretched seat next to me spare
I wonder what all I may have to hear
For the unfulfilled responsibilities of my chair
You see, everyone around is beginning to stare
How will I ever make it from here to there
With people all around me
Over-flowing in rows of chairs
But the seat next to me
Spare!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem