forgetfullness. Poetry

Not A Penny.

Not able to make out.

Part of the way

I went in a bus

with not many a person

a four  or five altogether

absolutely no sound whatever

reclined  and dozed off

the breeze lulled me to a siesta

past the town I had to get down

the fellow passengers had alighted

I was the one left out

the driver sped ahead

the bus entered the busiest town

had to slow down to negotiate

perspiring I woke up

found that I had travelled very  far

straightened  I in a hurry

ashamed of my carelessness

got down with an awkward smile

the driver cast a  knowing glance

happens these things to me now

not once but in occasions more

reasons could be varied

I detest to examine Neck_pillows_in_action

as they are  worth not a penny

By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

One reply on “Not A Penny.”

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