"busstop" poems
‘Love me today, don’t leave me tomorrow’
That’s what I should have made more clear
and that’s exactly what you did
one day you’re in love, the next you’re no longer here
Here isn’t where I want you though
Not anymore
Sitting outside writing this at the busstop
Don’t know what I keep writing about you for
If I knew the last time I was in your arms was gonna be the last time
I would have said goodbye, goodbye
I would have saved you the trouble
Of having to break my heart the next time, the next time
I would’ve been more persistent and asked what was on your mind
then maybe I would’ve known
that two days later you planned to go
then before you could make me cry
I would have said goodbye, goodbye
But if I knew that it was gonna be the last time
I would have hoped for time to go slower, that’s right
I would have savored every moment
Praying we’d never make it to daylight
But it was the last time
And I never saw it coming
Sitting outside writing this at the busstop
Don’t know what I keep writing about you for
If I knew the last time I was in your arms was gonna be the last time
I would have said goodbye, goodbye
I would have saved you the trouble
Of having to break my heart the next time, the next time
I would’ve been more persistent and asked what was on your mind
then maybe I would’ve known
that two days later you planned to go
then before you could make me cry
I would have said goodbye, goodbye
I should have listened to my heart
You’re a twisted lover
I should have listened to my heart
She warned me that if I fell for you, I’d never recover
Don’t know what I’m still writing about you for
Maybe it’s because I’m trying to make myself believe
That the part of you I still miss
Is just the person who you lead me to think you’d be
If I knew the last time I was in your arms was gonna be the last time
I would have said goodbye, goodbye
I would have saved you the trouble
Of having to break my heart the next time, the next time
I would’ve been more persistent and asked what was on your mind
then maybe I would’ve known
that two days later you planned to go
then before you could make me cry
I would have said goodbye, goodbye
So goodbye, goodbye.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
You ask me whats wrong,
well how the **** should I know?
maybe, just maybe,
its the overflowing abyss of emotion that I can never show,
You've taken all of my outlets,
you even walk me to the busstop,
like I'm four,
but hey, how would you know?
I'm talking about all the emotions I don't show,
because I don't want you to know,
because you'll think I'm screaming for attention,
no, thats the last thing I want,
No more love, no more affection,
because you give me too much,
only to rob me of what I've got left
when you scream at me until I cry,
for one little mistake,
I tell you I'm sorry,
but what difference does it make,
none,
because the cycle goes on,
and I don't know how much more I can take,
how many more times can you stab me in the heart,
before it finally breaks?
how many more times can you open my wounds,
with your words as the blade?
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 9:45 PM UTC
*Shelley Baker , how have you been
My first crush at the tender age of ten
I still see your Brownie uniform
at a distant busstop
When we first sat together my jaw dropped
I watched you giggle with your girlfriends
in the lunch room , knowing full well that our
romance was through
Trees in the old neighborhood still bear
R , W , S and B , chalk on Orly Terrace has long
since disappeared
Two bluebirds reminded me of our tumultuous
two days , sharing candy , simple ways* ..
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 8:32 AM UTC
In what form is love?
- spirit, they say we affirm, we
readers of poetry and fantasy, they
thee common literate audience ******
religio politico industrial always right,
on the side of justice, as it seems,
to the minute, did I remember
to meet the grandchildren at the busstop.
NO,
I did not, and would not have but, their
grandma called their grandpa to remind him,
be cause he as been waxing more beamused,
made afraid for the moment, mind
time pause, now, we think, how say
the sages past, must we treat
with care for fear of proud wrath,
encultured hero worth, a weight
in the bag we measure worth with,
Jungian *** archetype old guy, no powers,
patiently refolding complex islands of mysteries,
never needing to have been, all spread out, trust me,
we uns stretch it always out, just smooth
as touch in rest in time to think. True rest./.NPC
compressed rest, as time accelerates and few guess,
we were the missing energy, we few who blew our minds.
We revived in many old ties to whys too deep to reason
directly with, we had ****** shames of lives we ruined,
we all felt it was wrong when we did it, but the boss
said god said, how was we to know, tsalhearsay, here
we say.
Stop and let the money makes its answer, lovelessly.
Oct 24, 2024
Oct 24, 2024 at 7:24 PM UTC