I met a grumpy Gus on the bus
For him seeing the worst came first
On my route I saw him frequently
No doubt, he’d list them subsequently
One day, I walked over and asked
Why his happiness seemed so masked?
In a burst of tears I wasn’t ready for
He revealed it was his father to give credit for
If abuse was rain he let it poor
The whole of his life a dark metaphor
Him a living lesson for me
On who not to be
I tried to operate on a different frequency
Carrying his invisible burden
Lured in by him
Disgusted by everything from ham to mustard
Muscles for smiles in his face rusted
Of all people it was himself he least trusted
However this he didn’t know
Growing problems guaranteed you wouldn’t solve them
Better to let someone else farm their own harm
Awethentic 