You reek.
No really, you do.
I know you can hardly
Tell since your habit has
Dulled your sense of smell,
But trust me on this one.

I sit on the bus everyday
Hoping the one who decides
To sit in front of me isn't
One of you people.

The scent that exudes from
Your body and clothes hits
My nose and stomach
Once the bus starts to move.

There's no escape from it
And I know I'll get off after
You. I try to breathe through
My gloves, but that doesn't
Give me much air.

I see you reach up, pull
The yellow cord, and ding!
Sweet relief is on it's way!

You slowly make your
Way off the bus and I'm
Finally able to take a deep
Breath of, well, fresher air.