Staring out the booger stained window
Sat in the front seat, the school yard weirdo.
His clothes were worn and his hair unkempt,
Poor Henry was always held in contempt.
Seats were assigned back in the day
Until a bad storm that happened in May
Roads were closed and routes redirected
Former designations were rejected.
School bus filled with many new faces,
Colors, ages and even races.
The students were older and conversant
As I stepped up the steps I felt lucent.
No familiar faces could I see,
Except for the kid, known as Henry.
He was alone except for his book
With reservation the seat I took.
The ride was rough, many roads closed
Through it all, Henry stayed composed
As the bus drove through treacherous land
I remained calm holding Henry’s hand.