The Waiter

The Waiter

A Poem by Budd Black

making only tips
serving fish and chips
taking crap from dips
at home writing scripts

Running to and fro
always on the go
stops to let you know
service is running slow

writes name upsided down
smile hides his frown
never is around
gotta get out of this town

doesn't listen what you say
order will be delayed
it is wrong anyway
sings happy birthday

service was a wreck
didn't eat a speck
waiter didn't give a heck
Can I get my check

© 2010 Budd Black


Author's Note

Budd Black
best if read aloud

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So many stresses on todays society. I find myself wondering how that is. What happened to all the time we were suppose to save with all these modern technologies.....could it be time is truly an illusion? All I know is many of us seem to have to give up our dreams just to survive and as I have gotten older I realize that that is absolutely insane...
Peace
Robin

Posted 14 Years Ago



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Added on November 17, 2010
Last Updated on November 17, 2010

Author

Budd Black
Budd Black

Bean Town, MA



Writing
Sometimes Sometimes

A Poem by Budd Black