At the Bus Stop
My heart was beating wildly;
So much I had to say;
I only managed, ‘Morning.’
Until another day…
I wonder what you think of me
(Assuming that you do);
And do you know my heart’s on fire
Each time I look at you?
For Giorgio’s Small Poem contest
Romantic, Jack Horne
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2014
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