Mike shows up to work every day at half past five

At that time of the morning he’s not even happy to be alive

He checks with the dispatch and then ensures his cab is ago

With the terror that cars face overnight, you never know

He makes sure that he has change for a twenty

In the morning people with large bills seem to take priority

So when six o’clock rolls aroun’

Mike heads out on the town

After getting a coffee, the first few hours are slow

He parks on a downtown corner until he finds to place to go

Mike starts to read the first of three morning papers

For some reason the first few fares always go to other drivers

He does not know why but Mike always has his regulars

Familiar faces are always better than unknown customers

They always have friendlier conversations

Than this whose faces are full of accusations

Mike gets treated like this is a decision that he made

An accident at a construction job watched all of the big dreams fade

There are so many jobs out there for someone missing a limb

In today’s world, people still would not hire him

This was the only job that made him feel like he does contribute

Self respect is a fine attribute

It is too bad that people do not look at that

Just a driver with scars under a hat
 

The people that are picked during the day

Arte not shy in what they say

You cannot say that the patrons are complaining

But they, at times, forget that it is not their best friend to whom they are talking

Mike becomes a low paid shrink

Never offering a comment on how he thinks

Collecting their money, one by one

While receiving tales of sadness and fun

At the end of the shift, Mike pulls into the garage

He picks up his second book of the day and the garbage

The same process everyday

Take in the receipts and walk away with pay

Watch the fellas come in for the next shift

At night they make their money swift

But to Mike that is okay

He meets and listens to better characters during the day

February 21, 2002

© Andrew Scott – The People Poet 2002