Bus

I've wanted to write a poem about my bus rides
But I can’t stand still enough to seat all the way through this ride
Zeus! - This ride has been rare to say the least.
I see the bus driver and his heart warming smile
I see brothers who oppose each other.
Sometimes as the wheels roll
I get a good dose of sunlight
Other days the sky is dull and humid and depressed
As the bus rocks sometimes I see other people like me
Yet they’re not like me. And old Mexican woman from Oaxaca
Some Mexican men who are brunt from working in the under the reign of Helios
And they probably seek for Guadalupe’s help from day to day.
I've also seen homeless people with no God to call theirs.
Who roam from town to town, seeking friends and strangers, and they are always reproached by family.
I think once I also saw a transgender individual with her supportive brother or lover…. Seating next to her, meanwhile I thought that sight was sweet and heartwarming.
Though a most peculiar sight that captured my sight and stole my imagination
Was a barnyard with the letters painted, BFL, on it?
I wondered what the acronym store for.
Maybe Big Fat Lard, couldn't slow my mind down, as the bus passed by
And to think that there’s more that I've missed
Apart from those mundane scenes
Of solar panels  
Schools and day-cares
Houses and apartments
The rain that I imagine drops gently sometimes
Or violently upon the windows
But of course my ride always comes to an end
As the bus crawls up to community hospital
And I climb down the steps of the bus  
And depart from the everlasting ride
Until night does part her from the rode
And the sun boat brings her back
For another round of passengers
Who’ll boarder her
Until they reach their destinations.
I've reached mine today.