Back on the bus and they've got my shoe again.
'Not again' I think, although I should be used to it by now;
I try and ignore it
but they are throwing balls of paper at me
and chewing gum.
Back on the bus and I'm ignoring their shouts,
looking out the window as the world passes by.
My friend is next to me but shes not talking to me...
just the girl behind me
and they're laughing at something;
makes me nervous.
Back on the bus and my shoe still isn't back,
it's somewhere up the front, I can hear laughter.
I pick up all the paper and put it beside me;
ammo for later I guess.
Back on the bus and it's raining outside
or maybe it's my tears streaming past my eyes.
I hide my face, nobody should see,
what more would they do to me?
Not everyday was like this
but I'd be ready everyday, just incase.
Back on the bus and I know I'm a nice person.
Maybe I'm too nice, thats why they taunt me,
maybe I'm an easy victim, an outlet they need
for their cruel little tricks.
I see a hand in my bag. I wince, what now?
It seems I never won back on the bus.
It was just my daily journey,
but now I'm on a different bus
and I'm going somewhere better.
None of them to taunt me along the way...
I left them all behind.
Back on the bus.
this poem is both literal and metaphorical. I actually went through all this literally lol, it's written about actual experiences, but it also represents my whole past, and the bus signifies a metaphorical journey as well as my literal one I'd take.
'Not again' I think, although I should be used to it by now;
I try and ignore it
but they are throwing balls of paper at me
and chewing gum.
Back on the bus and I'm ignoring their shouts,
looking out the window as the world passes by.
My friend is next to me but shes not talking to me...
just the girl behind me
and they're laughing at something;
makes me nervous.
Back on the bus and my shoe still isn't back,
it's somewhere up the front, I can hear laughter.
I pick up all the paper and put it beside me;
ammo for later I guess.
Back on the bus and it's raining outside
or maybe it's my tears streaming past my eyes.
I hide my face, nobody should see,
what more would they do to me?
Not everyday was like this
but I'd be ready everyday, just incase.
Back on the bus and I know I'm a nice person.
Maybe I'm too nice, thats why they taunt me,
maybe I'm an easy victim, an outlet they need
for their cruel little tricks.
I see a hand in my bag. I wince, what now?
It seems I never won back on the bus.
It was just my daily journey,
but now I'm on a different bus
and I'm going somewhere better.
None of them to taunt me along the way...
I left them all behind.
Back on the bus.
this poem is both literal and metaphorical. I actually went through all this literally lol, it's written about actual experiences, but it also represents my whole past, and the bus signifies a metaphorical journey as well as my literal one I'd take.