There is a bus stop I stand by everyday
Around me is every person who has ever hurt me or let me down
They stand here with me day by day
When the bus comes I'm the last to get on every single time
I stand awkwardly as all of the seats fill
As usual there are no empty seats left for me
I must pick the lesser of my evil's and choose one each day
The heaviness of the fear and panic sink into my core
As I place myself beside one of them once more

Today however as I stood with the others as I stand everyday
I felt their hollow eyes burn into my back
As the bus arrived I saw it load with all these people that detest me
With all the memories that they carry
All the memories that weigh like dumbbells on my being
And for once I just stand there
I do not get on
And I watch as the bus full of all these things I hate
Drives away as another appears

It stops before me and the door opens as the driver beckons me to get in
It isn't my bus, but I still drag my feet forward
As if pulled by an invisible force like a magnet I can't pull myself away
When I enter I see other passengers
Not all of the seats are full, in fact many are empty
But it still feels full, yet not stuffy
I feel welcome as I stand in the aisle of the bus
I'm dragged down by a brown eyed beauty
And I feel like for once I've found my place
Within this bus filling with the things I love, with people I trust

Every bump she felt
brought her closer to her destination.
She drew a deep breath
as she left the bus station.

She looked out the window
to the things she knew.
Everything would be different
all with a changed view.

As the bus departed
all became smaller and smaller.
The colors became bleak
and the bus walls grew taller.

She knew it was to leave
for it was her time.
These next life steps
she was ready to climb.

I get up in the morning
Ride the bus to work
Hoping it'll be on time today
Cause my boss a real ****

I sit at my desk
In front of a computer screen
I'm already getting ***** looks
From patients waiting to be seen

Do this and that all at the same time
I spend the day multitasking
When will I get a break
That's what I keep asking

Well at least I have job
And money has to be made
Cause come the first of the month
The rent has got to be paid

A rock spins inside a world
too large for us to see.

On it is many creatures,
including you and me.

We've never known what it's like
to live on another rock.

It seems to me that somehow
we have found the best spot.

We weren't the ones who found this speck
of the universe, which we dwell.

It was something else that put us here.
It's not very hard to tell.

Our creator knew this precious rock
was specially reserved for us.

From his playful heart of love,
he built it as our flying bus.

I watched her get onto the bus
I stood there in the rain
She was off to find her future
I'd not see her again

I watched them load her baggage
Like so many times before
This time I watched the bus leave
And knew I'd not see her no more

Fractured dreams, and broken hearts
Together fourteen yeas
The rain felt quite refreshing
Only raindrops, no more tears

Many times we'd played this game
She'd leave and then come back
If I had to give a number
I'd lie, 'cause I've lost track

She sat beside the window
Looking down, then straight ahead
She was leaving, not on her terms
But this time, my choice instead

Somewhere there's a waitress
I'll find her soon and grab a drink
A celebration bourbon
At least two, I should think

The bus went up the highway
I turned around and walked away
I took my phone out of my jacket
Found the trash, tossed it away

Fractured dreams and broken hearts
I was tired of the game
We'd fought and made up plenty
It always ended up the same

The bus, lost in the distance
In the can, the phone did ring
I laughed and sought that waitress
and the joy that drink would bring

Fractured dreams and broken hearts
The future now was mine
I know it was now over
And it was by my design

I found a bar and went on in
Ordered up two shots, then three
My past was on a greyhound
My future, was up to me

I watch the birds fly by
Thinking of where they’ll go
My naive mind in the clouds not worrying a bit
I still question though
What is it that this boy sees

Across from me he thinks
Unknowing his life and what he’s got to come.
His fingers pretending to run on string
Going to a place more than south
I can hear him sing a tune that’s familiar to my ear

Boy do I wish to be him
And never know of a dark time
Hopefully he doesn’t take a glimpse

Too bad we grew up with these same thinkings...