Bus Stop

A poem about fading love

Bus Stop

Learning to look in my heart
Not for remembrance.
But for some type of closure, I know I won't find here. That time has long past me enough to leave a trail of what I called you're perfume,
The laughter that once found us together, now ignores us separately.
Leaving dreams behind isn't about giving up.

Its about realizing sometimes love is like a bus stop, you sit and talk for a while and it becomes routine like blinking that heart beat into existence,

Than time passes and the bus comes, you look through the window to see what you once called home, slowly pass away with blur of what we called hope.