The Bus Collective


 

Music blasters,
Choking smokers.
Ipod listeners,
Pervy gropers.
Rubbish droppers,
Workers starting.
Workers finishing,
School kids farting.
The unwashed,
The wired.
The perfumed,
The tired.
Paper readers,
Coughing splutterers.
Window gazers,
Annoyed tutters.
Bus travelers all.

 

 

There have been so many sights on my commute to work recently that I find myself spoilt for choice as to who or what to try to turn into a poem. With that in mind here is a poem about all the ” groups ” of people who I have encountered while on my way backwards and forwards to work. Oh and if your interested I put myself in the “tired,” or ” Ipod ” group.

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