Charles St. Terminal

"Shit!"
She gasps, looking out at the people waiting for busesShe talks to herself quickly but loudly, turning awayAs if she were reciting her lines for a playA blonde womanSo neatly yet modestly put together
How could one bus stop be so full of crazies?The old woman and her toddler granddaughter With bright yellow hairGet up from their bench and move away in fearWhile I draw closer
She mumbles so fiercely and so quietlyThat I cannot make out a wordShe is so tightly woundLike a broken watchAt a mad tea party
Suddenly she disappearedAnd my bus came
What did life do to her?
As I ride down KingI see her againBeaming as she walks by the skating rinkIn front of town hallReciting her own world for herself
Why does God hate her?
 
Category:Catalog