I want the seat closest to the window.
Boat, plane, bus, passenger seat
Ma'am if you don't mind,
could you please scoot down
while I take my seat.
My feet are tired.
I have been standing on this concrete all day.
Almost sleep on my feet,
The same problems exist at the front of the bus
just as the back.
If you could see past me, you'd see.
Yet you turn your nose and grab your purse.
All I want is a seat to rest my feet.
Lay my head back and dream.
I don't want to wear your chains today.
The chains used to justify what you see on the news.
How you can't see anything past me.
How you've wrapped me in chain from shoulder to feet.
You don't try to hide your look,
I can feel the heat on the back of my neck.
How you pick and choose what you like,
There is no difference between you nor I,
Except color,
Other than gender.
You watch me from the corner of your eye while I take my seat.
There once was a time when I'd have no choice but to sit in the back.
Now that I take my seat in the front you move to the back
A look of disgust across your face.
Boat, plane, bus, passenger seat.
Ma'am if you could,
would you please scoot down
While I take my seat.
All I want is a seat beside the window without having to explain why
I want to sit this close to the window

Trying to tap telegrams
On the back of my iphone
In a faux leather seat
In the back of my mothers car.
Anyone will tell you I have a
Knack
For the contrary
And there’s strangely no argument,
Where I got it from.
The seat belt sits uncomfortably across my throat,
Stopping my words,
A space formerly only occupied by her gaze,
Though my future career may benefit,
My current psyche does not.

Going to the toilet was a nightmare,
I would hold my *** and poo for hours,
For fear of sitting on the low toilet seat,
It was pain and toil getting up.
Now, a raised toilet over  two bricks,
And a grab bar,
Has made my life Shangrila,
No more fear,
No more anxiety,
Just slip on the seat and RELAX,
And do what you have to do.

Arched over time, a little rustic but never one
to deny aching limbs a respite from life's moments.
Just surveying when static, slowly the world gazes back.

Words etched in time, long past mentioning's
of love bound by initials for that moment
was all but etching faded as time weathered past.

He sat there, always talking but not a soul
was near to hear his spoken verses, he would
laugh like thunder echoing in the trees, then sombre.

Behind this bench three cherry trees blossoming there
beauty shower the surrounding with each stirring
of breath the wind gave them. and he sits there smiling.

It's been a while since the old man sat, but where three trees
were, now a young one sits behind. A lonely woman sits
flowers against it, blossom kisses her checks and she smiles.