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Bus Stop

A Poem

By Fiachra O'Published 6 years ago 1 min read
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Photo by Vladislav Klapin @lemonvlad

I am waiting at the bus stop

sitting in the circle of light beneath the lamppost

writing on my phone

I'm deeply locked in a thought

about why I never untuck my shirt until I'm home

when the bus flies by

there's a moment of disbelief as I sit up on the bench

a moment of doubt as I check the bus stop sign above me

and a moment of anger as I see the bus disappearing

luckily a red light stands up for me

and with a few quick steps I'm at the glass bus door

I tap and get a glance

I tap the door opens

did you not see me? I was sitting right there. At the bus stop.

yeah, looking at your phone, not paying attention.

so he did see me.

I wanted to remind him that there was no rule

stating that one must be alert at the bus stop

in order to garner the bus's services

well, I made it anyways. Didn't I.

It wasn't much of a response

but I saw the throne he sat on

and the hill I'd be walking up in the background

annoyed and in need, I got on the bus

spending the rest of the ride

trying to decide who was the worse human being

maybe people in suits sit on bus benches

with no intentions of traveling home

maybe he had driven this bus all day

and was heading home himself

so just to be sure

I thanked him as I got off

and when I arrived at my door

thinking about the confusion that follows anger

I untucked my shirt

excerpts
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About the Creator

Fiachra O'

I like writing about thoughts

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