Ode to a Bus Stop

I get up to the stop, looking to see,
If I will be lucky, more likely not,
For there is no bus there waiting for me,
Can't say I'm surprised, for that is my lot.
I spend much of my life, makes me surly,
Standing, sitting, watching time with much hate.
Tension keeps me up, hope starting to drop,
For I just missed the bus, it came early,
and wouldn't you guess, the next one came late.
My life slips away, down at the bus stop.

(Check out other (better) Odes to Bus Stops.)

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