On a bus.

On a bus.

Hands paralyzed in your lap,

In your body you are stuck.

‘Move away’ your mind is screaming,

‘its not real I am just dreaming’.

Clouds are gathering around,

You are lost, cannot be found.

One, two, three, count to ten.

 Four, five, six, and this when

Seven, eight you realize,

Nine, ten.

You’ll have to compromise.

This is your reality,

A life with such brutality.

You think everything is fake,

But remember things still break,

This is not a race of ache,

Very soon, you’ll be awake.