I'm sitting on the Subway,
the man next to me smells.
He's holding a brown paper bag,
that's dripping out the bottom.
I blink and stare at the man,
with his bald head,
and blue bussiness suit,
that has a mustard stain on the front.......
must be from the hot dog vendor down in the heart of the city.
Everybody goes to Ol' Moes for hot dogs.
The man brings out a tissue,
and wipes his large nose,
while I notice he has no ring on his finger.
Poor man,
he was never married.
The subway stops,
I have to get off.
The man smiles as I stand up.
His teeth are yellow,
and broken.
Goodbye old man,
with your dripping paper bag,
and mustard stained suit,
have a nice day.
Author notes
Written July 19th, 2005
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Comments
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good poem, good luck in the contest!
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this is very very very very.............ect.....good. Htis is so sad in a way that I had tears in my eyes sereusly!!!!!
Well good luck in the contest!!!!
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