The bus stop no longer emits it's beeping sound,
Instead we stand beneath its roof,
Howling winds pass by us as we stand there,
Winter has arrived at last,
Winter brings Christmas and resting rammed full of food,
Somehow we have made it this far,
Somehow we have lasted this long,
Look at the pictures they will help you endure,
And that is the point afterall.
YOU ARE READING
The poem shelf
PoetryA small variety of poems written by me since starting college.
