God and SIRU are Dead on the Bus (Antithesis)

I get on the bus at the charter school,

The 6 is full of Newark's brightest and best,

In the aisle there is an obstinate fool,

Who won't move back, who with tact is not blessed.

The driver should do his job, he does not,

A smart passenger asks the fool to move,

The fool says you're lucky not to get shot,

This bus belongs to me, it is my groove.

The fool's from Africa, straight off the boat,

The asker, too, but many years ago,

The charter kids, too, they are taking note,

Me, too, but how long back?  I do not know.

Can we make America great again?

We are all African women and men.