Poems of Charles Hice 

 [ My Poetry List ] | [ Poetry Poem ] | Today's Poetry | Sign In

charlax

  Sign Guestbook
  Read Guestbook

 TaXiCabby

TaXiCabby
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
As I was awaiting for the Bus Sun Tran,
I noticed the thing before I had planned
to etch this poem for all the land:
to read.
What happened then i can only inscribe;
a fantasy man,a thought not unkind,
but not planned, as ewe begin with this:
to read.
The Driver (The Cabby)
 He pulled up in the lot.
His Pistol he held and he shot and he shot.
All of his bullets came every which way,
but not one of them found me
they all missed they mark.
I was open to wonder and time.
A fantasy fight is the thing that i had.
Not a reality thing but just fancy of flight.
What if they did that for real ewe may ask.
Then I would have cleaned my poor britches.
And not on the bus I would ride.
I would walk so much slowly
?until I could find.
Some new clean pants.
I wander and wonder.
A fantasy man.
The Cabby of Taxi.
He rides.
 




  Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades  




Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

 [ My Poetry List ] | [ Poetry Poem ] | Today's Poetry | Sign In




©2000 - 2022 Individual Authors. All rights reserved.