No seats left at the back of the bus "I really don't think I can do this" Left fist clenched and right hand around my throat Severe lack of trust in the person behind me Held on until I got to Grassmarket Whispered "thank you", stepped off and exhaled Then walked home as fast as I could Whilst trying to ignore the wind and hail I should have listened to my own advice Or better yet not ignored all of yours Like when you said not to light the candle at both ends Or else I'd soon have nothing left to burn And that it didn't matter which way I turned Because the wind would cut through anyway Then in came the shin splints, and that sandstorm Inside my lungs that slows me down every time Coughing up dust, I sat alone on the pavement And I prayed that any moment, I'd see the sun Breaking through all of those dark clouds Overhead that never seem to ever slow down But I just sat in the dark 'til there was nothing left to cough up