With money changed hands for ticket requisition
I take up my most uncomfortable writing position
With all the green and pollution fuss
I taken to writing whilst riding the bus
Being knocked around down bumpy streets
In tiny sized, child like seats
My fingers I try to control
As we hit every single pothole
My carbon footprint citation
Depletes with every vibration
Even without a bus conductor or tuition
We all move our heads in bumpy unison
People stare and utter no words
As the driver hits every curb
With my commute I'm struggling
But getting used to public travelling
Something vexes me as we jolt and jerk
How does the bus driver get to work?
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