Lights are burning
In quiet rooms
Where lives go on
Resembling ours.

The quiet lives
That follow us—
These lives we lead
But do not own—

Stand in the rain
So quietly
When we are gone,
So quietly . . .
And the last bus
Comes letting dark
Umbrellas out—
Black flowers, black flowers.

And lives go on.
And lives go on
Like sudden lights
At street corners

Or like the lights
In quiet rooms
Left on for hours,
Burning, burning.

4 Comments

  1. Briana says:

    Im using this poem for my art project! my scene will be about a bus stop, so i choose, this one! Out of all the poems i have read about bus stops, this one is by far the best! Lovee Itt

  2. Kayla says:

    I had to research this poem for school. I wasnt really looking forward to it because I hate poetry. After I read through this and got a more understanding to “bus stop” I am happy to do this project. And for all you people that are being rude and writing rude comments just remember what this guy did you could NEVER do so dont hate on him OR his poem(s)

  3. ellie says:

    thats very powerful and i like it alot

  4. Kassandra says:

    I think the poem is just a reflection of the author’s thoughts. He was inspired by simple things and related them to life. I liked the poem. I don’t see why you say he sucks. He doesn’t offend anyone. So it doesn’t rhyme. It doesn’t have to. Obviously, you didn’t analyze it at all. With some poems, you have to be open-minded. I respect people’s opinion, but “you suck bastard” doesn’t really say anything at all.

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