Tuesday, April 25, 2017

bud


by jack dale coody




bud was just a guy
he walked because he couldn’t fly
scratched his head from time to time
never had a lousy dime

no one ever noticed him
he was neither fat nor slim
he might perhaps have gained some weight
but to eat each day was not his fate

a member of the human hive
he never worked from nine to five
he walked beneath skies gray and blue
and to no cause was ever true

no one ever asked his thoughts
he may have had some, maybe not
but knew his share of sneers and scorn
like every human ever born

in all his days and all his nights
no one ever thought to write
down anything he did or said
he lived awhile, and now he’s dead



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