No Man a Dress Shop

Lost in Toronto among strangers.
K wouldn't be picking me up,
Not three hours late.
No matter how much I insisted he would,
He would not come.
P and J had listened through the night
To my protestations,
My excuses for my friend's behaviour.
A hundred reasons or one; it hardly mattered.
He was caught in traffic
Looking out the window on the empty street
They understood

Three hours working together,
While I waited for a ride,
Talking, trading stories,
Still they tried to pay me,
Offered to drive me home.
They didn't understand my faith,
That work is worship.
My role was to serve the world.
I was not to be served.
It was they who needed help,
Not I.

This was long ago,
Long enough that I'm glad
K didn't pick me up.
That night my new friends helped me
To accept that I need help.
I can't be an island,
If I want to have my friends.

Please link, don't copy.
This work is Copyright (c) Mike Fletcher 1992