Grumbly Grouser - Poem by Francis Duggan
The last time I met him he was complaining although his troubles did seem small
And today in the Mall when I met him he had not changed one bit at all
He still is the same Grumbly Grouser I spoke to some ten months ago
For me he did not have one happy story of his small troubles he wished me to know.
I felt obliged to listen to his whinging since I did not wish to be rude
Perhaps things might be very different were I not in such a good mood
Suppose one must put up with such people their small troubles to them must seem real
I can't live in the shoes of others and deep down know how they do feel.
He showed me a small cut in his finger it seemed a graze and nothing more
He complained it was very painful though it did not even seem sore
Perhaps on him I pass harsh judgement though he did not seem to have cause to complain
Some people they feel they do suffer though they don't experience real pain.
Ten minutes talking to him seemed a long time with people like that time drags slow
People like him I don't find interesting and bored of them I quickly grow
He told me his daughter has influenza and his wife for him never cooks tea
I thought to myself oh how boring and what has this to do with me.
I felt great relief at his goodbye enough is enough one might say
But I'm happy for my small blessings that him I don't meet every day
The weight of the World on his shoulders at least that's how to him it did feel
And though for his complaints I could not see reason his troubles to him they are real.
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