Sailor, tinker, tailor, et al,
Ordinary people at one's beck and call,
How little do you for them care,
Cos ordinary people are everywhere.
 
Living lives like most of us,
Bicycle plodders and lovers of the bus,
Ten to Five or longer hours,
No fancy parties, no fancy cars.
 
Floors, the pillows for their heads,
The warmth of the earth, their royal beds,
Yet we call them Ordinary,
And the rich and famous, Extraordinary.
 
Lives lived in the extreme
Where comfort is indeed a dream,
Wait and want the only norm,
Some placid rivers, but mostly storm.
 
The Ordinary are Extraordinary,
Full of care and full of worry,
And yet, they manage to somehow smile,
To eke a living out of every mile,
 
That they do but wearily trudge
Bearing no ill-will and no grudge,
As plod they do through the labyrinth of life,
Some merry moments, and then angst and strife.
 
And we call them Ordinary, we do,
How sad, how completely untrue,
They're the ones we need to salute,
For they to our lives, the ‘max’ contribute.

(Ashok Sawhny is a prolific poet who has over 35 poetry books to his credit. He can be reached at ashoksawhny06.poems@gmail.com)

Website : www.ashoksawhny.com
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Spotify:   Ashok Sawhny Poetry of Life ( English)
https://open.spotify.com/show/1ZtQWYG5RUVHrLGQ5IyvZV
Ashok Sawhny, Dastan -e- Zindagi ( Urdu )
https://open.spotify.com/show/3BoBLzORJi4KqOI2F3IFhi