The Bus Stop

While beginning a new day or at the end of a long tiring way 
Everyone at the bus stop seems the same.
But there is something 
That seems to make every trip to the bus stop
Seem more interesting. 
My house is 30 minutes away from the place I work
But I prefer taking the bus every morning. 
I walk down the gray sidewalk
Lost in my own thoughts, 
Until I reach the bus stop. 
I'm always on time 
And I never miss the bus.
As I wait for the bus, 
I sit on the bench and observe the scenery. 
I look around and see people in jackets
Waiting for their rides. 
The city is quiet and still,
And when the bus arrives, 
I board and find my seat. 
Getting on a bus is an instrument of socializing 
Because when I board, I come across lots of people.
I find a good seat by the window
And listen to the city's latest gossip. 
I always take a 30-minute ride
From home to my workplace. 
Every cool, breezy Friday morning
I sit on the bench and wait for the bus. 
I interact with others
And strike up some conversations. 
I check the time my bus will arrive
And kill some time by watching people walk by. 
I'm always daydreaming and reading stories
As I wait for the bus. 
Just as the bus arrives and the doors open,
And I'm about to board, 
It always seems to me
That many different people board the bus every day
Yet nothing ever changes. 
Even though it's so confusing
That things are always the same at the bus stop, 
I know that sometimes things are just the way they will always be.
Category:Poems
Category:Poem