Everyday I go on a bus.
It is nothing but weary and a mess.
The only thing refreshing my mind,
Are the girls on the bus whom I find.
Someday the scene is alright.
Someday the screen is too bright.
But the mind weared out by books,
Is not particular about looks.
Sometimes they frighten you
Sometimes they smile at you
Some do not care
And some say it's not fair.
I know what I do is wrong,
But the will of mind is too
strong.

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