School Bus

© 03/19/2002 & 04/01/2002 Dennis L. Pickering Yellowness careens into sight. The younger ones are on this flight. They’re happy and all full of fight. With interrupters of their plight. It’s crammed with some young ideas Happen to be panaceas. Assuage our noble ideas Pugnacious thoughts, panaceas. The ideas with which it’s filled ’Oft-times obsequious and grilled From the riders who have been billed As the ones who are unfulfilled. Unfulfilled with old worn-out thought Because these young ones have not bought Ideas that us old ones sought With diligence though they were wrought. Wrought from locations in the past Looking back we recede and grasp Onto things we reflect will last With penchant more than a lone fast. Duplicity rides the bus too! Also filled with ineptitude! Because those children do elude The grown-up thoughts that are construed. By those adults who think they know What children require in their show The kids think they come from below And do not belong in their show. It is the place where some begin To accost life upon their chin Though they sometimes endure chagrin Inside of this life’s bowling pin. FINISMaybe the catagory should be Other? Written April 2nd, 2002 © on Apr 02 2002 02:06 PM PST, Dennis Pickering   0 • 17 • 12