This is an ode to that bloke over there,
You see him? Glasses, very little hair.
Hunched over black coffee, holding it to a stare.
From his right hand hangs a spoon, giving it a stir.
A crumpled suit flecked with dirt hangs loose here and there.
He wears a yellowed shirt untucked and scuffed shoes a pair.
From his sockless ankles peek heels bare,
While he sits, head down, dispair.
He saved my life today that bloke over there,
I feel inclined to tell him but I doubt he’d really care.