Rush Hour Poem by Vishorag Shadja
Rush Hour
Brushing aside the simple fact,
That I should navigate through tact,
Finding that empty seat
Was not a possible feat.
I wade through people,
Forming a steeple,
Fighting through the aisle,
When meters felt like a mile.
The bus screeched to a halt,
Everyone felt the jolt,
But, I tell you;
Getting that empty seat,
Was not an easy feat.
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: humor
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Searching and fighting for a seat in public transport
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5/10/2024 5:06:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
