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something that gave me inspiration while i was waiting for my bus.


Submitted:Jul 25, 2012    Reads: 8    Comments: 3    Likes: 1   


there is was, sitting there

litter all around it

beer bottles, wrappers, used cigarettes fermenting the ground

its alone in the cold, days in, days out

a harsh realisation of the truth

writing covering the old, wooden slats.

'call me 04......'

'kashia's a slag'

'fuck you'

vague thoughts, memories, out there for the leaves to blow over

yet open for the world to see

its not a diary, but its not a work of art

it's never been loved, but it was built with patience and time

no-one will care for it

its alone

yet people will always come and go

leave it then come back

the bustop has a soul,does anyone think about it?





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