Unsung Heroes Of The Predawn Light

We are the unsung heroes of the predawn light.

No we may never have fought in a great war,

or saved a soul from the snapping jaws of death.

People wave to us, but few know who we are

and most on a good days run could care less.

Like the organ grinder’s monkey from days of old,

we have been repeatedly trained to do a task.

We do a job few would even consider doing

and most would not even attempt to try.

A job burdened with ever growing responsibility

due to the minutia of a ever expanding bureaucracy.

A grossly undervalued, underappreciated profession

designated part-time by thoughtless administrations

that mouth how important we all are once a year

only to persecute us for every trifling thing later.

If you are lucky enough to survive a number of years

without resigning or becoming a sacrificial lamb

on the altar of a fearful self-serving public face,

you will get a tiny pension for your devoted service.


We are the unsung heroes of the predawn light.

The tolerant souls that routinely put up with

a few rude demanding manipulative parents

and their insolent misbehaving little darlings

just to be able to serve the greater majority

of decent well-meaning thoughtful parents

and the precious treasures of tomorrow

they have temporarily entrusted to us.

Like a hamster running on a little wheel,

we go around in circles every single day,

but unlike the hamster we must summon

every instinct and learned skill to insure

every turn we make is executed flawlessly.

We are kept aloft on our spinning wheel

by the deliberate hands of a caring heart

and the many small souls seated behind us

that come to trust us not to make a mistake.

We are the one person in their little lives

that are not allowed to ever let them down

for neither of us may be able to live with it.

We are their school bus drivers…

Written By Poet and Bus Driver Kim Morrison dedicated to fellow school bus drivers everywhere.