The Man In A Camper Van

The Man In A Camper Van

In a camper van, old and worn,

Sits a lazy man, with a heart half-torn.

Dust on the dashboard, seats stained and frayed,

In his comfy cocoon, he’s perfectly laid.

His wife is so angry, it’s hard to believe,

That he once was a worker, so eager to achieve.

But now he just lounges, remote in his hand,

While she’s left to juggle all things in the land.

He’s traded the hustle for a life of ease,

Retired in June, now all he seeks,

Is the thrill of the game, the roar of the crowd,

With a snack in hand, he feels ever proud.

“Just leave me be!” is his gentle plea,

As he yells at the screen, joyfully carefree.

Whether football or baseball, he’s found his delight,

In his cozy old haven, from morning till night.

With a remote in hand and a cold drink near,

He tunes out the world, for nothing to fear.

No work to be done, no chores to pursue,

Just the sports on the screen and a nap or two.

So here’s to the man in his camper so grand,

Living life slowly, in his own little land.

With a chuckle and cheer, he greets every game,

In his lazy paradise, blissfully the same.