Bus Face

Stepping inside, I concentrate on the driver
Maybe I’ll be the only friendly passenger he meets today
Greet him kindly, nod my head and
“Good evening to you” I say.
Although the reaction varies I don’t give up
For often times I read on his forehead
Who are you? Your friend? No!
Well then, move along and shut up.

I turn to the left and scan the room
Walk the runway and smile
Meanwhile…
My only goal is to find that most convenient spot;
Next to a window, not too far in the back,
close to the stop-button and hmm… let’s see – who’s hot?

Awkwardly I try to balance my feet on this ground
The bus starts to make this one and only bus-sound
I am pressed forward and quickly take my seat
A neighbour,
Shall I…say it?
“I’m Stef, hi – it’s nice we meet?”
Nah, why should I?
So I decide to my very-close-sitting neighbour, not to greet.

There I sit, bound to this place
For the next forty minutes;
I gaze…
What will I do, where can I look?
How can I pretend being busy without my music nor my book?
The sound of passing by cars is what I start to count
But once I turn my head to look out and watch them go
My view more catches my neighbours’ lit up reflection in the window
Quickly I change and look to the right
But it’s dark and black, no cars on that side.
Here I am, six minutes have passed…
Wai-wai-wait! My cellphone! At last!
Finally now I found use in my life
I have friends! In my list.
Calls I could have missed
I am busy
Now, don’t you dare bothering me.