Array ( [sid] => 183449 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => On The Bus [time] => 2016-08-18 14:40:32 [hometext] => [bodytext] => An old lady asks me for money.
I tell her I have none.
Her glare pokes needles into my neck
I say I//'//m sorry,

I should have told her she wasn//'//t my grandmother,
That I didn//'//t owe it to her to take care of her.
I should have told her I honestly had no money.

I//'//ve tried to hard not to appear angry.
And I guess I//'//ve gotten used to other people speaking for me.

I see a black boy in the back of the bus hollering at
a girl who says she has a boyfriend.
He says it doesn//'//t matter and then says it again with profanity
when the girl//'//s mother tells him off.

Some of the white passengers watch this play out
but they don//'//t see a black boy. They see every black person.

They see me.

I want to tell the boy to shut up, that I don//'//t want to time travel.
I don//'//t want to go back to when no one knew who Rosa Parks was.
When we were considered troublemakers in the back of the bus.

I want to tell him that he is the reason why bus drivers look towards me
when someone accidentally makes the bus stop.

But I say nothing because he has already spoken for me.
He//'//s already spoken for all of us.



lydthon15, PLEASE: To help keep this site INTERACTIVE, please read and comment on at least 3 poems by our other authors for each one you submit. Please support our other authors. Thank you.
YOUR POETRY DOT COM reserves the right to reject any poem for any or no given reason. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 108 [topic] => 21 [informant] => lydthon15 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - On The Bus


On The Bus
Date: Thursday, 18th August 2016 @ 02:40:32 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: lydthon15
An old lady asks me for money.
I tell her I have none.
Her glare pokes needles into my neck
I say I//'//m sorry,

I should have told her she wasn//'//t my grandmother,
That I didn//'//t owe it to her to take care of her.
I should have told her I honestly had no money.

I//'//ve tried to hard not to appear angry.
And I guess I//'//ve gotten used to other people speaking for me.

I see a black boy in the back of the bus hollering at
a girl who says she has a boyfriend.
He says it doesn//'//t matter and then says it again with profanity
when the girl//'//s mother tells him off.

Some of the white passengers watch this play out
but they don//'//t see a black boy. They see every black person.

They see me.

I want to tell the boy to shut up, that I don//'//t want to time travel.
I don//'//t want to go back to when no one knew who Rosa Parks was.
When we were considered troublemakers in the back of the bus.

I want to tell him that he is the reason why bus drivers look towards me
when someone accidentally makes the bus stop.

But I say nothing because he has already spoken for me.
He//'//s already spoken for all of us.



lydthon15, PLEASE: To help keep this site INTERACTIVE, please read and comment on at least 3 poems by our other authors for each one you submit. Please support our other authors. Thank you.
YOUR POETRY DOT COM reserves the right to reject any poem for any or no given reason.

This poem is Copyright © lydthon15


Important note: ALL POETRY ON THIS SITE IS COPYRIGHT.
If you wish to use any poem for any purpose, please either EMAIL Mick from
the sites feedback form, or go to the AUTHOR'S site and EMAIL the author for permission.
If you Email Mick for permission on any poem that is not his personal works,
he will endeavor to contact the author on your behalf.

This poem comes from Your Poetry Dot Com
https://www.your-poetry.com/

The URL for this poem is:
https://www.your-poetry.com/route.php?page=poetry/PoemDetail&story_id=183449