Commuter's Curse

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I’m eleven years old and my name is Paul
For an hour twice a day I’m an extra two feet tall
Because I speed around on a contraption with only one wheel
And pedal with force on two hinges of steel

Christened the unicycle boy, or sometimes the local freak
They call me a prodigy, an outcast, and a geek
As I roll down the street the neighbours applaud
Unaware that the grin on my face is a dismal facade

And even though my commute causes the gathered crowd to cheer
To be honest I’d rather be anywhere on earth but here
Because it’s really not that easy to balance on one tire
When the relentless sun beats down and causes you to ache and perspire

To this exhibition I shouldn’t be subjected
I feel like an animal in a cage, just less respected
Maybe I’d enjoy myself if I didn’t have to go so far
Or if this was a hobby instead of replacement for a car

Above all, I wish that I had the courage to use my voice
To announce that I don't want all the attention, that I really have no choice
Because since my father’s a drunk and my mother smokes crack
This is the only way that I can get to school and back.





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