Friday, 11 September 2015

Thoughts On The Bus

Just another day,
the world passing by
on the bus in haste,
absorbing with my eyes.

no time to think,
no time to ask,
questions that sink
Into a far past.

Days that fly,
life becomes less
played by time
love's transgress.

people on the bus,
strangers with no clue.
we're all travellers
to a cold fearful truth.

How did we live,
do we mourn and regret?
Did every moment we cherish,
or wish that some people we hadn't met?

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