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Array
(
[sid] => 25444
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Waiting For A Bus
[time] => 2003-10-21 00:47:23
[hometext] => please comment and let me know what you think....
[bodytext] => Tread on, Like a piece of plastic on the cold concrete, I sit at the blue bus bench Waiting for it to take me home. Not that I know what home is, But I can pretend like I know what I’m doing. I’ve grown accustomed to lying to people anyway. Take me back, bus…take me back. Take me back to Boston. Take me back to Ashland, where beauty was all around. Take me back to Maine, where I took pictures Of street signs and vegetarian propaganda. Take me back, take me back to California Where I was five minutes away from the ocean And pretty surfer boys Or if you can’t take me back, bus, take me somewhere new. Take me to Baltimore to see my older brother So that he can take care of me if people are mean. Take me to New Jersey so that I can watch cartoons With one of the best people I’ve ever known. Take me to Portland so that I can see Jesse And Erika and dance with them. Take me to Philadelphia to sing with new friends And never think twice about what awaits me at my house. If you can’t do either, bus, then I only ask for one thing more. Take me to a happier time. Take me to the moments when I was surrounded by my friends, All the real ones who loved me, and the strangers that made me happy. Take me back to the times when I was meeting someone new, Learning something different, Or being myself. Take me back to the times when I was weightless, Dancing in someone’s arms at the punk show. Take me back to the days when I wasn’t so jaded And I still believed in the goodness of human beings. Take me back to the days before the boys hurt me. Take me back to the days when I was small and pure. Take me back to the days when my mind was open Like my eyes, and I never wore a frown. I see you in the distance bus, and I know you can’t do anything for me Except take me to my house Where nothing good can happen. That’s a lie, I know, but I’m so tired Of every sterile building I’ve seen a thousand times before. I hate this city. There’s nothing more for me. I wish that you could take me out of my body, Drive me away from this shell, But instead we drive down Virginia, That tired endless road I’ll see a thousand times again. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 180 [topic] => 44 [informant] => Blue [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Nostalgic )
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