The Bus

Posted: April 17, 2012 by alisonadkins in AllisonA, Rosa Parks-- A Life in Poems

The driver of the bus,
the same bus I refused to ride,
was the driver that had me arrested.
I would have never gotten on there
if I would have seen him.
I was tired and I just wanted to go home.
I didn’t pay attention to him as I got on
and took my seat behind those reserved
for the white people.

All the white seats were filled when
a man got on.
He was tall
and white.
The driver told me and four other blacks to move.
They did; however, I did not.

Little did I know,
this simple action was what we needed
all along.


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