0 Bus Stop

I walk destination Bus stop. For what, for what depends on why; Sometimes to travel. Sometimes to sit and think, Sometimes enjoy a cold beverage 40 ounce of Olde English malt liquor. Who will I meet? I met an old lady at night, we talked. Generation’s apart and our political ideology equally apart. The only thing in common was the bus stop we shared.

I have met many, A mother who picks up her children from School, she beautiful. One day she said hi another day she gave me a hi-five. I met a man who served our country homeless but proud. Learned to live and survive from the jungle of Vietnam.

From The Bus Stop I see cars, I see drivers, I see passengers. Some look back with pity. Most never see me at all in a hurry, but why? To save a life or late for work or just like to go fast. To those who pity me pity me not, For I have gain far more here sitting at the bus stop , Knowledge I have collect, people I have met. I have been Blessed.

--Earl W., 40