To Complain
My job today is simple
Walk to the bank
Bring back some funds
Easy right? Wrong!
Why walk you say?
Well there is traffic
With traffic comes parking
Easier to exercise the legs
Which bank is best?
The bank to the left
Or the bank to the right?
Both are a bit far
Last time I went left
Only to get half
Should I go left or right?
Try for half or try for all?
I chose all and went right
With Crocs on my feet
The trip starts on sand
Roads unfinished and rough
These feed into cement
A high sidewalk a fast street
Pollution in my lungs
The road more traveled
As I pass the airport
I see ahead an accident
A large truck swerved
The 4x4 did not
Traffic backs up the road
The truck blocks my way
Out into traffic, I go
Weaving in and weaving out
Safety of the sidewalk
Accident recedes behind me
Pollution in my lungs
But wait the bank is there!
No one in line!
The card goes in
The wait starts hmmm
Why is it so long?
I hear the gears
I don’t hear the money
My card spits out
No money follows
Off to another bank
Down the busy road
Pollution in my lungs
Only 5 more minutes
I wait in line
Finally, the man leaves
Muttering under his breath
The machine is broken
On to another ATM
This time at a supermarket
An error message comes
Sigh what a pain
Back to where I started
The bank on the right
Did me in as well
Pollution in my lungs
At home, I look online
Oh my! Money left my bank!
But not in my pocket!
Back to the first bank
This time I drive
Down the bumpy street
Bouncing all the way
Onto the asphalt hmmm
Traffic is ok has been worse
The bank comes up
Parking is a premium
Circling like a buzzard
Parked, it is feet again
Cross the busy road
Enter the bank
Wait, knock, ask, leave
Come back at 1:30
She tells me with a smile
Oh Senegal you are the best
Fight traffic home, hmmm
Help kids with school
Eat a fast lunch
Then back into Crocs
Walking this time, 1:20 pm
At the bank again
I wait for the lady
She asks for my card
Passport as well
Copies are made
She calls someone
No answer on the line
I sign papers no money
We will call you
She says, ok thanks
I leave tired and dejected
Pollution in my lungs
Walking slowly now
Tired after all this
I pass a cripple
He had been there before
I have no money
What can I give him?
Why stop?
I walk on, but….
My conscience bugs me
I turn and go back
“You have a nice vehicle”
It was hand made
Odd pieces of wood
A few odds and ends
Tacked together a cart
It was broken
He is from Ghana
Wants to be an engineer
Waiting for the sun to set
He is positive, why?
I have so much
My legs work fine
I have a house
My family is there
Why am I complaining?
I have so much
He has so little
Why am I complaining?
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