This poem describes the loneliness and isolation felt by children on a school bus. It depicts their sad, glum faces as joy is deprived and pieces of their souls are eaten away each day. The monotony and lack of freedom to play or express themselves leaves them doubting the existence of fresh air. The concrete jungle environment and routines of school life silently choke them and fail to let them breathe.
This poem describes the loneliness and isolation felt by children on a school bus. It depicts their sad, glum faces as joy is deprived and pieces of their souls are eaten away each day. The monotony and lack of freedom to play or express themselves leaves them doubting the existence of fresh air. The concrete jungle environment and routines of school life silently choke them and fail to let them breathe.
This poem describes the loneliness and isolation felt by children on a school bus. It depicts their sad, glum faces as joy is deprived and pieces of their souls are eaten away each day. The monotony and lack of freedom to play or express themselves leaves them doubting the existence of fresh air. The concrete jungle environment and routines of school life silently choke them and fail to let them breathe.
I will not stop you, Nor will I make a sound. My stick-figure frame can take the pain Im weak Yet, Im strong enough to hide the shame Fight. Breathing in toxic Living with no fear The ice may melt at any time The end is always near If there is a God above, watching over me Hold me close; hold my heart I will forever fight for thee Change youre changing right now only because this is real this is happening, this is NOW. Its not everything, but a touch on the present See my change, reflect my cognition and beat to drums on my peace Change Is constant you arent.
Muse in a school bus
This is where innocence dies...
Can you hear me, life? It cries I sit here; I reflect. Do you see them? The eternal joy in their eyes Children of eight, glum-faced with nausea Glee deprived, stolen every day Piece of their soul eaten in minutes as they gaze emptily, the outsides muse Joy passes away The monotony, heavy movements The need to play, to revel Expression through their eyes Knowing no other way The last straw left to rebel Doubting the existence of fresh air We are jungles of concrete With no jubilance, nor smiles The seat belts trap their meek waists Silently choking, no air Failing to breathe Control, Society, Dull, Routines. Drives us into steep ravines Uniforms pressed; fresh shoe-shine Favors from our mothers. ~Hanaa Azmi