What is it about bus stops
That brings it all out, into
the open?
The pain inside
Is it the endless waiting
That's a metaphor for some
of the things they're waiting
for?
Never run after a man or a bus
Father would say
These days she runs after buses
(As you really never know if
another is coming)
She made him feel that he'd
never need feel alone
at a bus stop ever again
He didn't do the same for her.
She doesn't feel alone at bus
stops
She doesn't cry at them anymore
She looks at people as they are
And sees that it's not just her
Who has the pain inside
Everyone has it
Some don't realise that they do
They smother it with fags,
booze, food
bad relationships
They cry on the inside
She used to cry at bus stops in
the rain
She used to text soberly
Things she shouldn't have to
Men who couldn't love her in
The ways she wanted them to
Now she just waits for the bus
Looks at the people and their
shoes
and makes up things about their
lives and lost loves.
Copyright Debbie Broadhurst
2006
