A pregnant lady got on to my bus.
I was always taught not to make a fuss
But to get to your feet
And offer your seat.
I look around and no one is moving.
No buttocks are removing.
This is not good.
In fact, it is rude.
And someone should
Be acting more courteously.
And it looks like the seat martyr has to be me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem