Callous Humans

the bus coughed twice and cursed once he was indisposed, yeah he really was for fifty-five years he always gave his best why can't these callous humans grant him a deserved rest he was once the pride of a Caucasian farmer then, he was treated nicely and even pampered he was routinely bathed twice a day he never gets the luxury of a decent wash these days many years ago, he was brought to Africa and ever since, his greatest wish is to be wheeled to the undertaker the scorching heat guaranteed unending daytime fever and when it rained he was forced to swim the newly formed rivers his limit used to be a dozen human at maximum now he's forced to take two score at minimum the roads are an archeologist's envy, his limbs are always sore he's become dead to smell not after four decades of those odour he also functions as a garbage can and sometimes as a toilet and occasionally when it's dark and cold , he becomes a moving brothel he’s undergone countless plastic surgeries, his maker will not place him his due day off on Sabbath day still remains a pipe dream his trademark scars are tell tale signs of gory encounters with the cop's nightmares and whenever dusk approaches, he becomes numb with fear the incessant traffic jam, makes him crawl like a toddler it hurts when he looks around and sees even older brothers whenever he gets the chance, he never fails to mention that like his human counterparts he deserves retirement and pension