17
FEB
2011
The old man was looking for Argyle street,
I couldn’t meet
His face.
He was out of place.
He said,
I used to know where it was once,
But that was long ago
Way back twenty years or so.
I think his mind was on a slab
So I hailed an Advertisement clustered taxi cab,
And said Take him to where he wants to be,
He’s not all there,
I paid the fare.
And thought about him and what he faced,
With his shirt undone and his shoes unlaced
And wondered why if we care so much
That a crippled man without a crutch,
Could be alone,
Be on his own,
Not in this zone.
It just ain't right.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 8:53 AM UTC
17
FEB
2011
The old man was looking for Argyle street,
I couldn’t meet
His face.
He was out of place.
He said,
I used to know where it was once,
But that was long ago
Way back twenty years or so.
I think his mind was on a slab
So I hailed an Advertisement clustered taxi cab,
And said Take him to where he wants to be,
He’s not all there,
I paid the fare.
And thought about him and what he faced,
With his shirt undone and his shoes unlaced
And wondered why if we care so much
That a crippled man without a crutch,
Could be alone,
Be on his own,
Not in this zone.
It just ain't right.
After meeting a confused man at Tottenham Court Road station five years ago today.
Request permission to use this poem