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Quiet Idealist
Poems
Sep 2014
The Bus
I packed my bags to board a bus
Headed for god-knows-where.
But as the flash of headlights
And hum of engine grew near,
I didn’t know whether to step
onto
Or
in front of
that bus-
Thoughts lost in the heavy mist of that Sunday morning.
Written by
Quiet Idealist
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