Traffic-King in Prayer

I missed my turn in a city I knew.

I turned round a corner, deja vu.

A one way street, the wrong point of view.

Going slow, stuck in a queue.

I turned left, then right, I was in the wrong lane.

Go straight ahead, then turn again.

At last I was going the correct way.

I’d soon be home, hip, hip, hooray.

Then I got stuck at a red light.

If I got any older I’ll pray for last rites.

As I waited a man with sign, a familiar sight.

Requesting work, a civil right.

It was rush hour, with road works ahead.

The man was motionless, a crack-head?

Juice-head, Acid-head, Pisshead, Dope-head?

No, just needed work to get food and a bed.

At last the light changed to green.

I passed the man, no work, no money, unseen.

I had time to give something, I felt mean.

Or was it his work, an automated teller machine?

As I drove by his endless stare.

Two young girls in casual wear.

Stopped, gave him food, did he care? 

He smiled, gave thanks, and the Lord’s Prayer.

Laurence David Sumner 2010 ©

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