The Old Man and the Bus
He sits alone on the bus
Route 15 from Main Street to the Mall
Riding in an endless circle
A half burned down cigarette in his lips
He talks to anyone who will listen
At times he rambles on about nothing
Sometimes he is as lucid as a country pond
But those moments are few and far between
Most time he sits watching the world go by
He sees people getting on and getting off
He just sits and waves at each one
Riding and watching are his life
He has nothing else
No family
No friends
No home
He only has the bus
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