sitting on the bus,
bathing in the reflected sunshine,
the girl dipped in sadness sighs.
late again.
she just couldn't get up this morning.
the early sun,
peeped through half parted curtains,
warning her to wake up.
today is like every other day.
ordinary.
her life is like every other life.
ordinary.
and she hates it.
she's waiting for something amazing,
she's holding her breath for that big event.
the one that'll change everything.
perspiration trickles down her spine,
uncomfortably sticky at only 8am.
it's going to be a bad day, she can tell.
staring at the pedestrians
those too good or too poor to get the bus,
she envies them.
most look like they don't have a care in the world.
the sweaty bald man in front of her grunts loudly,
annoyed at her pounding music.
she turns it up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem