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the boy on the bus (poem)
2 years ago · · poems,
every monday i see this boy on the bus,
he always sits at the very back,
and i know nothing about him,
apart from what stop he gets off on,
but there’s something about him,
something about how our eyes always lock,
how he’s the first person i look for in the bus,
how he’s the only reason i wake up excited on mondays,
i know i’ll never actually get to talk to him,
because he’s just a stranger on a bus.