Bus Stop “Poem”

What colors and rainbows

What rags and uniforms

What workers and honest laborers

What faces and expressions

What life of our working class

9 to 5 servitude and a little cash in hand

What hearts still in leisure

What blues and blue hart busses

What bus passes and student cards

What patience and desperate wait

There come the bus

There come the passengers

The engine of real economics are these passengers

Not in cars with loud music and proud vain

At bus stop one sees the true humans

Hard workers, broke but still alive

More alive than those

who does not take busses out of spite

What bus stops

What summer sweats

What days and nights

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