Street story

A poem about two kinds of people encountered on a street

Street story

I didn’t feel safe
A rowdy gang behind
I quickened my pace
Hoping to find

A place to get away
From these noisy yobs
With cans in hands
Or spliffs in gobs.

A loud burp
Almost in my face
Pardon or excuse me
There wasn’t a trace.

At last they’re past me
I sigh with relief
Glad to be
Out of reach.

Suddenly I trip,
Shopping on the floor.
The yobs turn round,
With laughter they roar.

A man quickly appears
And helps me to my feet
I am so grateful
To this stranger in the street

With foreign accent polite
Kind words he speaks
And helps me pick up
My shopping leaked.

I smile saying Thank you
Embarrassed by my fall
You’re welcome, he replies
I’m glad you are well.

How refreshingly nice,
A gentleman true,
You local louts
What’s the matter with you?