The Bus
By hilary west
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The Bus
Chortling in my boyish way,
I thought someone must surely pay,
But there she was,
Her bulky fat and scraping shoe,
Quite unable, to give her, her due,
To push once more and mount the platform,
While the bus pulled off and dragged her through
The streets of London,
This wondrous creature,
Ever hoping that just once,
The next time she would surely be
From embarrassment and pain quite free.
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Comments
As a child it would seem
As a child it would seem funny, but now we've heard of so many deaths or injuries through this sort of thing, but I suppose in this incidence she wasn't dragged far as only had to let go, not caught up tied to it, but it must have been far from funny to her! Rhiannon
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I remember those old 1960s
I remember those old 1960s buses. As kids we'd treat them like a fairground ride, trying to jump on and off of them when they were moving, very scary now I look back, but when you're young and agile you don't see danger.
That poor woman must have been petrified. I'm surprised none of the other adult passengers didn't shout out to stop the bus.
Jenny.
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