Twitter Poem (hiphop)

My iPod doesn't work and my jeans are sodden.
What is this dreadful ratrace for - the point I've forgotten

Busses now in great supply but none that i need.
I run this race for money it's all about greed.

29, 25 or 2-5-3. I live life by numbers: come see what i see.

On the number 2 now bad breath and sweat,
inner anger rising because everybody's wet.

So i txt my little twitter-feed a rhyme about this time.
I hope that others feel-my-pain, not taking my loss to be their gain.

Nearly at dare now this nightmare's near an end.
Fuck me this awfull bus journey's driven me round the bend.

So one more thing to say to you next time you're in a fuss. think you back to this-day thank Fuck you didn't bus.

yeah init