Get Off the Bus

Us crowded on the bus; heading towards, a new frontier unknown. Away are we from, those familar; ever since, being really grown. Looking out, for our future; by signing name, on the dotted line, assuming soon afterward; that every thing, will be really fine. But many thoughts, come to mind; way back, to reminesce. Revelations, being shown; to reveal, why one is, doing this. Some are window viewing scenry; out there, for all, to see, later, all comes to a stop; realizing here, is where, we be. Thinking, we were ready, to adapt; away from a life, we now egress. Us beginning to hold, on to items; unaware of, their plan, of stress. Realizing were not in Kansas, when Drill Sgts, at us, would truly cuss. Attitudes becoming changed; them yelling,"Get off the bleeping bus!"