You At The Bus Stop.

Oh, I need the time, a year,
to build the grit and mind
to articulate the words to say
adjectives and metaphors
that illustrate your display.
I know
I know
I know you heard this before
with limited vocabulary.
I’m no Morrissey
or Hemingway.
But I’ll woo you regardless,
I’m told it’s what I do best.
Oh, I’m getting old,
prolonging the love.
The love that I long.
“Grab it son, before it’s gone”
I know
I know
I know that was your philosophy,
but the time is not enough.
there she goes
leaving on the other bus.

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