There's this girl on the bus
that I take in the morning
head against the window
wide awake yet dreaming
and I look at her always
she never returns my gaze
she's lost in her thoughts
and I'm caught in the maze
of her little gestures
that I cannot decipher
the twirl of her hair
twisting around her finger
the slight curl on her lips
the tapping of her feet
and how much I wish
that our eyes could meet
for her to realize
I've always been there
but she never does notice
and I can only stare
everyday in the morning
as the lights zoom past
all I ever see
is the girl on the bus
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem