deepundergroundpoetry.com
Do They Dream Beyond Highschool?
In crisp morning air
Dusty aroma of that old pumpkin bus
I sat in the turbulent back
Keeping to my lonely self
Head bobbing to the music
Thinking of dreams
That were as scuffed
As the floors
That gyrated like dirty sub whores
Under my Converse, their J's
We clashed but we merged
In a sea of beige and blue
Hatred rolled off my tongue
For the attitude that came
With the stereotypical hood
They moved with jerky swagger
I moved with a purpose
Dusty aroma of that old pumpkin bus
I sat in the turbulent back
Keeping to my lonely self
Head bobbing to the music
Thinking of dreams
That were as scuffed
As the floors
That gyrated like dirty sub whores
Under my Converse, their J's
We clashed but we merged
In a sea of beige and blue
Hatred rolled off my tongue
For the attitude that came
With the stereotypical hood
They moved with jerky swagger
I moved with a purpose
Published 27th Aug 2014
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