Looking past the trees
The sky was angry and
tears fell on those lost and
found as they moved toward
somewhere and nowhere
I stood with cold hands and
dirty socks wondering if
I should try to be civil or just
buy a soda and walk my own
path..the bus came as my head
got wet..and I found that just like life
The bus refused to give me a ride
Correct change only
I stepped off, and started to walk
the tears I held , began to obscure
the bleak path.. the sky’s pain flowed
freely, I walked on..

An Original Poem by H R Beebe