That face
In the sea of humanity,
Like the poppy
In a bed of pansies
Strikes out
With its red
And the stigma
Protrudes black.
The bob-cut of her hair,
Neat and clean
As they come;
Quarrelling with the ears
At each nod or turn.
Those eyes throwing glances,
On the pavements she stands;
Waiting for the bus.
And then
She rides away.
Author notes
This poem was written about 25 years ago. I was standing waiting for a bus when I saw this girl.
The funny part is that I missed this bus I was supposed to take; and saw her calmly riding in it.
Lol
A blundering fool.
But it happens in life.
A contest entry
- A Good Old Poem, from younger years by Violinstrings.
650 points, ended November 15, 2008, 32 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
beautiful
good free verse and description
-
Sorry this feels not dark...off topic for me. Good write though!


