by Dave
Sitting by myself on the backseat, minding my own business,
I look downwards, as they stare daggers at me.
Behind my back, they snigger at me loud enough, so that i can see, their rudeness.
I hang my head in disbelief, unable to project my voice, i grit my teeth.
I try to leave, but my legs; jelly
I want to show them, through my fists
The pain and grief
Of being sus in a bus
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