All but last bus and there sat I
tired and bent and all smelly.
Stinking of fat and fish and that
With half a squashed chip down me welly.
The bus stopped again and the brakes gave a strain
As the passengers clambered on fast.
So I moved up a bit to make more room to sit.
But everyone just walked right past.
Now I never knew I was giving off poo
As I patiently waited my road
But the passengers gave me the seat to myself as I stank like rancid old toad.
There was me on one side
There was them on the other twas obvious I'm terribly minging.
And even two drunks had been clearly affected cos suddenly,. they packed up singing.
The driver kept peeking up into his mirror wondering where was that stink?
And a little old lady had pulled out a tissue and covered her nose in a blink.
I really felt awful and happily jumped
As my road at long last was in sight.
Yes I Leapt off real fast seeing my home at last
And I slithered off into the night.
This is your journal, for your writing. An interactive journal with historical tidbits designed to nurture creativity and self-motivation, features one side for drawings, sketches, or pasting personal pictures, and the other side lined for notes or j
These days, San Francisco - must be the worst place to go.