Life on a Yellow School Bus

Here, I have written a poem of a young girl who explains her experiences on an American school bus. She’s an immigrant to the US, and describes her interesting observations while travelling to and from school on the yellow bus. Her story may or may not be based on the author’s experiences. Who knows 🙂

Freshman year of High School came,

She climbed on Bus Fourteen.

The sun shined through the stained windows,

She sat on old leather seats.

“The fourteen-year-old on Bus Fourteen!”

She youthfully made the link.

“I’m on an American yellow school bus!”

Her mind would joyfully think.

Her bus journeys were a snapshot,

Of the different people she’d meet.

Most would be loud and proud,

Few would be willing to greet.

A friendly person she met,

Was the bus driver on the wheel.

He’d often grab them food,

And pay for their whole meal.

The loud kids sat at the back,

One threw a shoe at her head.

Apparently accidental,

She questioned the motive instead.

And then there were the unique,

She watched one particular youth.

He’d catch a flying cicada,

And eat it, licking his tooth.

“I’m on an American yellow school bus!”

Her mind would joyfully think.

She became the observant one,

Her eyes would never blink.

By Elicia Fyle

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