I saw her at the only bus stop
In our little, forbidding town.
She seemed to be on the top -
The girl was getting me down.
I wanted to be just like she –
A young girl of the world
With a hand luggage- so free -
In a bus on the provincial road.
Colorful lights of a big city
Were on the lookout for her.
The bus departed, I felt pity –
I had to remain here forever.
Where are you, girl from the bus?
Where is your destination?
There was a difference between us,
Or... it’s only my imagination...
A very creative piece of poetry. The kind of thing that really does serve the reader well. I really recommend this piece. I would have given it a 9 but there is no scoring. It is worth every bit of that. GW62
beautiful rhyming poem. I do not know, why I wanted to read it again and again.
A lovely poem of longing, rich in imagination, touched by a wistfulness that is very appealing to the reader. Warm regards, Sandra
i bet she thought the same about you looking at you...in india we say ' the jasmine on the neighbour's creeper smells sweeter than the ones on mine'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I enjoyed reading your poem. It made me think - how our lives are similar and different but we do share a liking for poetry.