On my way to
the sad suburbs, where
buildings are
scattered on both sides of
the road like broken biscuits,
I saw an almost-orange, old bus,
covered with dust,
parked alone beside
an abandoned wall,
one wheel down,
three shattered
windows. Under the dirt,
there was a phrase, barely seen,
written in bold letters,
with glittery purple paint:
"Better future for our kids"
