Standing in line to catch the next bus home

the world is crowded but i feel all alone

the honks and whistles distract my ears

i am thrashing inside but no one hears

the line moves and i start to stare

bad manners, but i don't really care

some questions surface as i watch people go

who they really are and what do they know?

do they act or feel like me sometimes?

i'm thinking straight yet out of my mind

are there times when they feel left out

have they considered moving south?

because the whole world's out there

while i'm sleeping in

awoke from the slumber never knew

where i've been

i've lived my life from the inside

but i'm still looking in

i've tired from fighting battles i couldn't win

the bus pulls in i step up inside

make my way through the aisle

a seat is offered at teh back

think about life as the grip slacks...