The little things

The little things they said,
Are what matters the most.
Hello! Goodbye! Can I help you?
Providing aid to some lonely ghost.
Are all forgotten in the blink of an eye.

I'll walk into a room and say good morning!
Noone looks up, but a few albeit they were yawning.  
I'll stand in line, waiting on my turn.
A gentleman cuts in front, looking quite stern.
A passerby bumps into me and spills coffee on my shoe.
Not a word of apology, even as I smile "Hey, howdy do?"

I'll stand on the sidewalk next to a puddle so clear.
A driver will pass, splashing me while the street kids cheer.
I'll leave my phone unattended next to my lunch.
The phone's still there when I get back.
Of course, what would they do,
Make a call while they munch?

I'll ask a question, different from the norm.
Harsh glares would be returned that say,
Why don't you just conform?
They'll dwell on the part that made them mad.
Just a second it would take, to make us all glad.

This is the world we live in.
Unsightly yet true.
We don't speak about it, a bad review.
Manners and etiquette they taught us in schools,
Yet all of this on a syllabus which has yet to be proved.


Kirsten Z. Jacob