Behind the crowded "city bus stand",Stood the statue of the bald old man;
Black and thin was he the man
Standing in the sun for more than a tan.
With a half smiling face ,
but a steady old gaze,
He looked into the city
as though it was witty;
Crows,cukoos,mynahs and sparrows
Perched on him as the light dawnde dim.
Of the birds he took no heed
For the batterd old knight planned no brave deed.
Once in a year of fear and tear,
A "JCB" came and hit his rear.
Broken was the old man ,body ahnd heart,
When he was hit by the overgorwn bullock cart.
Later, few men came and took him away
His old platform stands empty till this day.
