Sometimes our bucket list is nothing more than a wish to reclaim what's lost, 28 lines
Mr. Meyers drove a school bus,
For thirty years he rose at dawn,
He drove through rain and snow and fog,
This job did not require much brawn.
We think about him now and then,
A nice old man who liked to chat,
He solved crosswords and played Scrabble,
He liked to talk about his cat.
His bus was warm and never late,
Then one morning he did not show,
His doctor gave him some bad news,
We heard he’d gone to Mexico.
To find a woman that he loved,
He thought about her every night,
He’d met her somewhere in a club,
Then had disappeared from his sight.
She said that she would return soon,
He’s lost and lonely-will he crack?
He cries and waits and pets his cat,
But he knows she’s not coming back.
The cancer made him stop and think,
I go on eBay, make some bids,
What is this life I’m leading now?
I drive a bus and talk to kids.
They say he flew to Monterey,
To find that woman that he missed,
The next door neighbor got the cat,
Was it love or his bucket list?