Hour-Hand-Our-Hand>>> Poem by Manonton Dalan

four people sitting around
waiting for somebody to come
to open a room to work on
but nobody knows who owns
lucky i happen to pass by
i went in there many times
i give them number to call
in few here comes beautiful

we laughs for relief; move on
i am thinking what could have
maybe they'll be stuck for day
each won't lose none but time
traffic i lose an hour everyday
worry not; am used to this way
yes time rules our daily lives
make use of it while we have