by Shel Silverstein
The traffic light simple would not turn green
So the people stopped to wait
As the traffic rolled and the wind blew cold
And the hour grew dark and late.
Zoom-varoom, trucks, trailers,
Bikes and limousines,
Clatterin' by—me oh my!
Won't that light turn green?
But the days turned weeks, and the weeks turned months
And there on the corner they stood,
Twiddlin' their thumbs till the changin' comes
The way good people should.
And if you walk by that corner now,
You may think it's rather strange
To see them there as they hopefully gaze
With the very same smile on their very same face
As they patiently stand in the very same place
And wait for the light to change.