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Buses and Broken Stars
You come like buses, too sudden, too loud,
Filling the space I tried to keep;
Your words get lost in the crowd,
Gone before I can hold onto them.
But the trains I wait for never slow,
Like broken stars slipping past my hands;
Moments that feel close suddenly turn fragile,
Clear for a second, then blur, then fade.
So I stand where arrivals and endings collide,
Counting the chances I let drift away;
Some stay too long, some rush right by...
Almost mine, but never meant to stay.
