Treasure Island

Isabella Francis

(18 June 1996 / India)

The Bus Stop


I stood on the bus stop waiting and waiting
Watching the shadows on the street lengthening.

The bus however did not come, even if I waited night on night
You might wonder what gave me the might to carry on this fight.

I waited, for I'd seen that glimmer of hope
That he'll return to me either uphill or down a slope.

Yes, he had hurt me in the past
Those moments seemed to forever last.

Even after the day he tore me to pieces
I saw him everyday, though the pain never ceases.

I searched his eyes each day
Till a little guilt was evident one day.

I knew his ego wouldn't bend
But, for his return my heart I had to mend.

The next day he vanished into thin air
The pressure of guilt was too much for him to bear.

That day onwards I waited for the bus
and if he is not there I make no great fuss.

One day he alighted, haggard and tired
And I knew, this was the man I admired.

As soon as he saw me he made a dash
And reached me only after avoiding a narrow crash.

He told me to wait till everyone had gone
And then he looked at me with the eyes of a fawn.

He leaned, he cried on my shoulder
Without me he told his heart had smoldered:

To ashes.But now I will revive
Him and he will survive.

I want no apologies I want no compromise
I just want him to be with me in lifelong ties.

As cool as ice, as hot as fire
Are we but we know our desire.

Ice may melt or may extinguish a flame
But being with you is honey my aim.

Even now, arm in arm as we pass the Bus Stop
Time it seems, dead in it's tracks stops.

I and him all the memories revive
Of the hurt, the wait and the fawn's eye.

But we move on and those memories we never miss
For our love for each other is sealed with a kiss.

Submitted: Monday, October 17, 2011
Edited: Tuesday, January 03, 2012

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