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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 22:14:09 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 14882
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Dark bus at midnight
[time] => 2003-03-25 16:05:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Dark bus at midnight.
The driver clears out seats for us, practically screams Make room for the Americans. Once again I wish my hair was a different color That my clothes didn't look so new That my skin wasn't so white. The air is rich and rank, smells of sweat And laughter. This bus is full Of working men. They have come to Greece So that their families can stay in Albania. And I want to be one of them, want to be on this bus Tired from working in the fields, somewhere Unfair hours for unfair wages Going home to see my family Two daughters and a son To bring them what they need And see the smile in their eyes. On this bus I am more foreign Than these foreigners. In the Greeks' eyes, we are Opposites. They Pander to the Americans And kick the Albanians. Still foolish and wanting pain, I would trade skins with them in a second. To be kicked for your language Must be better Than to be loved for your money. Right? Man in front of me winks at me. I wink back. (what am I supposed to do?) He laughs, says something to the man Next to him. I don't think they know each other But they are both Albanian, In this together. He asks me something In Albanian. All I can say is I don't understand. He laughs again, Talks to the man in front of him. I try to sleep. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 216 [topic] => 21 [informant] => banjo [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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