One QuestionWhy
Do I have to do this again?
It happened yesterday
The before
The day before that
I've lost count
Why
Can't I get driven home?
Its too late
Here it comes
My executioner
Its bright colour
Separated by black
Fitting
Why?
I try to get on first
But I'm pushed to the back of the line
And when I get on
The seats in front are taken
All that's left are the seats
Three-quarters back
Too far from the front
For the driver to hear
Why?
It doesn't take long
For it to start
Stupid
Cry baby
Loser
UGLY
Why
Do they do this to me?
What did I do to deserve this?
I would really like to know
Then maybe this torture
Would stop
Why?
The journey isn't long
But to me
Each minute is an eternity
Why?
I tell them to stop
I ask them
Why?
I threaten
I retort
But I refuse to beg
Refuse to cry
Refuse to show weakness
I will not give them the
Satisfaction
Why?
They know that I struggle
To stay calm
No one helps
Even though they listen
Why?
That is all I can think
When I exit the bus
Why?
The driver asks if I'm okay
bridgesyou told me
on a sticky summer afternoon
that you would feel safe in your castle
in the land of the living
you told me
that you would be a prince
and me, your princess would be
safe from evil in any way it came
but there are bridges
which we must cross
to reach the place we call
the land of the survivors
you told me
that bridges are daunting
and that i must close my eyes
to avoid the pain
you told me
on that same sticky summer afternoon
that the castle was cracking
in the land of the dying
but there are bridges
which we must cross
to release the place we call
the land of the martyrs