Stranger

Standing there by the bus stop
I saw an old man
We hopped the same cart
The cart of life

He sat next to the window
He had no will though
But his eyes said alot
About the things I thought

He had this smile
Smile of satisfaction
He is waiting for this journey to end
With no ratification

He made me realise the pity about life
In the early years you are a dime
Now he was seating there
He stared and I felt the whim

He had this body
That crossed my mind
How fickle we are
And things we undermine

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