|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Waiting For A Bus
Contributed by
Blue
on
Tuesday, 21st October 2003 @ 12:47:23 AM in AEST
Topic:
Nostalgic
|
Tread on,
Like a piece of plastic on the cold concrete,
I sit at the blue bus bench
Waiting for it to take me home.
Not that I know what home is,
But I can pretend like I know what I’m doing.
I’ve grown accustomed to lying to people anyway.
Take me back, bus…take me back.
Take me back to Boston.
Take me back to Ashland, where beauty was all around.
Take me back to Maine, where I took pictures
Of street signs and vegetarian propaganda.
Take me back, take me back to California
Where I was five minutes away from the ocean
And pretty surfer boys
Or if you can’t take me back, bus, take me somewhere new.
Take me to Baltimore to see my older brother
So that he can take care of me if people are mean.
Take me to New Jersey so that I can watch cartoons
With one of the best people I’ve ever known.
Take me to Portland so that I can see Jesse
And Erika and dance with them.
Take me to Philadelphia to sing with new friends
And never think twice about what awaits me at my house.
If you can’t do either, bus, then I only ask for one thing more.
Take me to a happier time.
Take me to the moments when I was surrounded by my friends,
All the real ones who loved me, and the strangers that made me happy.
Take me back to the times when I was meeting someone new,
Learning something different,
Or being myself.
Take me back to the times when I was weightless,
Dancing in someone’s arms at the punk show.
Take me back to the days when I wasn’t so jaded
And I still believed in the goodness of human beings.
Take me back to the days before the boys hurt me.
Take me back to the days when I was small and pure.
Take me back to the days when my mind was open
Like my eyes, and I never wore a frown.
I see you in the distance bus, and I know you can’t do anything for me
Except take me to my house
Where nothing good can happen.
That’s a lie, I know, but I’m so tired
Of every sterile building I’ve seen a thousand times before.
I hate this city.
There’s nothing more for me.
I wish that you could take me out of my body,
Drive me away from this shell,
But instead we drive down Virginia,
That tired endless road I’ll see a thousand times again.
Copyright ©
Blue
... [
2003-10-21 00:47:23] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: Waiting For A Bus
(User Rating: 1 ) by olive on
Tuesday, 21st October 2003 @ 01:35:47 AM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
I understand that feeling of numbness. The glimmer of hope is that though you might be surrounded by the mundane, you have a poetic spirit. Keep on keepin' on.
~olive |
|
|
Re: Waiting For A Bus
(User Rating: 1 ) by venkat on
Tuesday, 21st October 2003 @ 02:56:46 AM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
you have turned the bus into a time machine....It's O.k.i am also tired of my city life..but I can't go back..this poem is beautiful..i love this. venkat |
|
|
|