"At The Bus Stop"

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The long windy wait

for an east bound bus,

does not seem to grant one much hope.

The hardened metal bench, near fully

rusted from years of snow and rain storms.

In my peaceful glass box i feel

safe, ( never the less, this is the most un-safe

part of town). I want to take a city bus,

away from here, just let the driver set

my course, to an adventure, a new

beggining somewhere, just wait till dusk

listen to old favorites, sleeping, awaking on

the bus, to where,

I hope i don't know.





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