observing the bus stop
scattered smiles can’t hide
the barely conscious frowns
that bring my doubts to mind
for in my aimless times
I wish there was a line
to feel so out of line
just drifting through
these mazy tick-tock days
and shady restless nights
bleeding on each track
is there one to life and love?
to pulse somehow
I don’t know how
or shall I still feel out of sync
merely passing time
a carcass on the tracks?