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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

It's about a girl. Unfortunately, she wasn't mine.

I see her evey day

On the 9 o' clock bus

Staring out the window

Just like the rest of us


But she tries to hide

The feeling of sorrow

Left inside

Those cold blue eyes


Maybe she tries to forget

All the men that she has met

Though no course was set

She wanted to be somewhere else


As she brushes back her hair

As not to get caught

I try not to stare

But she is in my thoughts


Her hair is dark

That which matches her soul

 It seems like the years

Have taken their tole


As the bus gets to her stop

She begins to cry

I love this woman

But I don't know why


Now she is lonely

Just like the rest of us

I guess we can only

Look through the window on the bus




Submitted: November 06, 2013

© Copyright 2022 Harrison Eaton. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



I don't actually like romance pieces, romance anything, but this poem really struck me. Not totally perfect, but very nice to read, with real meaning. I liked it.

Fri, December 27th, 2013 3:19am


Thank you.

Thu, December 26th, 2013 7:24pm

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