Truth on the Bus
It was Truth's fault actually.
The bus was empty and it was
a hot August evening
and he seemed so alone and a bit
confused;
sitting alone on a bus
headed out of downtown toward
some far away destination.
Truth was riding alone and
I thought he would want company and
feel better that he was not left to
fend for himself;
so I sat down close by.
You headed home? I asked.
Where is that? He responded.
I just smiled; slightly confused
and embarrassed
and a little scared myself.
Others got onto the bus filling it up
and Truth looked up as each one got
on but he seemed disappointed each time.
Odd, I thought. He seems so timid
and, yet, he expects to be joined by someone.
The crowd got bigger and louder and seemed
to take over the entire bus; driver and all.
Truth was hard to find and I could only glimpse
him from time to time as others jostled for position
and to find ways to prop themselves up.
The noise got louder and louder until I could hardly
hear myself when I yelled, are you OK?
And Truth responded, No, I'm not well here
and I cannot breathe.
The bus was so loud and so crowded with
competing bodies that I could not reach him.
At the next stop, I felt a sudden coldness
as I glanced out the window and
I saw the lone figure of Truth get off.
He watched us pull away.
A bus of fools going nowhere
And Truth was gone.
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