THE JOURNEY

No-one has offered me a seat yet

Though I sense it will come

Just take a look at my face

Or snatch a feel of my bum

For I am sagging in front while falling behind
Such a dismal degeneracy beckons

What a feeling of loss as I rake through the dross
As my fare runs well past its reckoning

No-one has taken my arm yet

Though it cannot be long ere they try
Travellers flinch from the grind of my knees
And wince at the shake of my thigh

For I am stumbling about while fumbling for change
While the driver grows surly and dark

If I only had time I would manage just fine

But his schedule’s for real not some lark

No-one has raised their voice yet

Though how would I know had they done

And hark at the harrowing cries

Of those who have missed out on their turn
We are bowling along through a jettisoned throng

The upshot of which who can tell

Yet one cannot alight, just to ask seems not right
And lord knows who’ll respond to the bell

No-one has averted their gaze yet

Though the chance that they will is a cert

Should I try to hold on to the gist

Or feign and pretend I’m alert

This rash clutching at threads is embarrassing some
Not least my companions who note

As I peer through the crush and inquire what’s the rush
Food stains down my shirt are no joke

No-one has ordered me off yet

Though the reason is hard to unpick

Dare kind tolerance transcend a bleak dusting of Fate?
Did you count all the stops that we passed on the trip
As the vehicle sped round the bend?

Did we sort out Life’s meaning

On this journey near o’er?
Too late…it is here I descend.