I Wait In Line Poem by Phil Soar

Each Monday as I wait in line for the number 52
I look at how the morning sun is coming into view
And then I wish I was in bed, or still sat on the loo
Each Monday as I stand in line, for the number 52

Each evening as I wait in line, for the bus to take me home
I listen to what people say, and wonder, as they moan
Will they appear tomorrow, or will I be there alone
Each evening as I stand in line, for the bus to take me home