It’s cold!
I’m cold.
Hurry!
Do you hear me?
Turn the bus towards town,
And I’ll angrily arch
My soul.
This is mean!
We wait while you sit
On the warm bus.
You leave us here
Like it’s okay.
Every slight temptation,
I ill- temperedly
Rise to get on.
Do you care about us?
What if it were you and
I drove past you?
Would you like it?

 
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