As yesterday grips my hand and leads,
regret and pain whisper in my ear.
The bus hisses to a halt.
I take a breath then board.
The quiet stares of people
guide me to a seat
I peer into the twilight,
at the lights of memories.
I pull my hands away from yesterday,
to bus to tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For Fun
PoesíaPoetry I write for myself. Comment for feedback. I will take criticism even if it harsh.
