She's charging around my heart,
Like a bull in a china shop
Just a quiet girl, at the bus stop
She takes the 4:15
Every day it seems
Sits across from me
I don't know why it is
I always feel like such a wreck
Sitting on the 4:15
She walks across the parking lot
A mile from where they drop me off
Just oblivious
There's an ocean tearing at my seems
A mouthful of words I can't release
Every afternoon, when I'm sitting across from her
On the 4:15
I'm exclamation points and capslock
When we pull up to her bus stop
My eyes resting on the clock
When it's 4:15
1 comment:
I'm glad to see that you've been at it again! I really like this one because it rings a bell with me.
During 10th grade, I almost always walked to school. On my route there was always a catholic girl waiting at a bus stop. I only knew she was catholic because of her uniform. She was really good looking and seemed to be very nice and pleasant. She also looked really cute in her school uniform. She wore perfume that I learned to love. Not too much, but just enough, that I could smell her as I walked by. We made eye contact occasionally. I wanted to talk to her so badly. I'd decide what I was going to say beforehand and just couldn't bring myself to say them to her. I thought that she was out of my league and she could probably tell that I was "from the other side of the tracks." Then I'd think that she seemed so nice that she probably wouldn't care about that. Everyday I wanted to say something to her besides "hi" and everyday I failed to do it. I'd spend the rest of my walk to school cursing myself for being such a wuss. One day, she wasn't at the bus stop and was never there again. I beat the heck out of myself for being so weak. I never saw her again. I haven't thought this in many many years, until I read your poem. To me, a poem is good if it makes me feel something. This one really did and I'm sure others would feel the same way. Really good Tim.
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