Bus Ride Poem by Beulagh Bromley

Bus Ride



The greyest day becomes transformed
When 'ere the sun doth shine
Serenity and sadness both combine
Produce an old and vintaged wine.

Peoples faces lined and wrinkled, bored and
Some with laughter sprinkled
Tell us all great tales of woe and
Leave us wondering what they know.

We can see and sometimes feel every
Turn of life's great wheel
And only when we've come full scale
Understand the real unreal.

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