Waiting for the Bus
I waited for the crosstown bus
Forever and a day.
That may be an exaggeration,
But it felt that way.
At least three dozen people
Were bemoaning what became
The perfect opportunity
To find someone to blame.
To make things worse, a bus was parked
Right near where we’d hop on,
Although the driver, maybe
On a break, was just plain gone.
At last a new bus showed and so,
All three doors had a crowd.
The driver opened none of them,
The grumbles getting loud.
When finally, he made a move,
The front door opened wide
And access to the other two
Was out and out denied.
More kvetching, but we inched our way
And finally could board.
I snagged a seat (not many left),
Which felt like a reward.
At least it wasn’t freezing and
I wasn’t running late,
Yet surely, it’s a well-known fact
That no one likes to wait.
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