On A Bus Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
On A Bus
With no traffic to fight...
Or third finger to thrust up,
To cuss when someone cuts me off...
As I speed up to catch them,
Then run out of gas...
In a car I drive much too fast.
To then invest in exorbitant maintenance fees,
I am pleased to have left those times behind me.
I sit on a bus and sometimes laugh,
At some of the most hilarious sights...
And innocent comments made,
By those on the bus...
Who will do and say anything,
Just to make sure the fare everyone pays...
Is well below the free entertainment.
With no insurance premiums paid monthly.
Or discovering fresh scratches as I wax.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/1/2024 8:38:51 PM # 1.0.0.1119
On 'On a Bus' I paid heavy for my busride entertainment last week: I left my keys on the seat. I knew how to get in the house. I'd worked that out the week before, When I wrongly said I had my keys And my brother shut the door.