A lanky humanoid named Gus
was driving a big yellow bus.
The bus was crammed with noisy pupils
of which a handful had no scruples.
They ran around and screamed abuse
and threw against the windows shoes.
The driver whose authority
had wilted like old celery,
stood up and ordered them to sit
but no one listened then, to wit
they now increased their rowdyism
which clashed with Gus' catholicism.
A turn came up, they saw it clearly
the bus fishtailed and very nearly
went off the road right near the drop
the brakes now failed, he could not stop.
One mile they soared, into the stream
wiped out the future and each dream.
So, if you're in a yellow bus
you listen to the driver Gus.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it was like those stories adults say to make youths listen to and follow them! and like...well let's not say like 'Silverstein'