That Wasn'T Nice

I'm a half-century's old big girl a big, fat mature, grown-up girl in many shy quite, quiet ways a prolific foot traveler by way of tennis shoes and hot and cold determination but on this day of our Lord's may seventh Twenty Seventeen leaving your long gated very public city vehicle I presided to say Thank you with a very well intentioned verbal faze but contemptuous words re-spouted back to me as to mock some kind of warning to me as if I haven't received many already why, give me more grief and distress when i am so poverty-stricken without harmony of mutual justice and your pockets are full with phlegmatic abuses worry no more for no one perceives' me and I am of no importance due to paramount's of low social ranking