PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I seek my own personal space

as I take the journies from place to place

I hate the whine, the daily grind

the rolled up newspapers and cups I find

so the least I ask is for my own seat

where the air is clean and the cushion neat

no nudging and barging or 'squashed like sardines'

no screaming children or bitching teens

I like a space near the window, no one blocking my view

I like the aisle to be clear so I can walk through

no pushing or moaning, no umbrellas wet from rain

soaking my trousers as I groan in my 'pain'

as I swing rail from rail, trying to push past

standing on one persons foot, hit by one persons ass

no children ringing bells more than once at a time

no people stealing luggage, at least none that is mine,

If only I didn't have to go with the rush

maybe then I could afford to not take the bus

All I ask is for comfort, space at arms length

I'd walk the whole two miles if I had the strength.