the bus to work
it's just a flash of summer, fleeting
as i pass by the riverbank
on my way, from
rain to rain
dark, and cold
yet my soul is warmed
through the scarred glass
or perhaps i'm wrong
the roads might still
be draining
when i arrive
with the sun beaming down
and the storm toned down
into a gentle, hopeful breeze
as i pass by the riverbank
on my way, from
rain to rain
dark, and cold
yet my soul is warmed
through the scarred glass
or perhaps i'm wrong
the roads might still
be draining
when i arrive
with the sun beaming down
and the storm toned down
into a gentle, hopeful breeze
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