Poem: At the bus stop

I stood there waiting for him to cross the road,
But he never came.
I decided to go over and to meet him
But by the time I got there it was too late,
For he already caught a bus to town.
The city of lights and all things gleeful.

So I stood there at the Bus Stop and waited either for him to return
Or for the van that he caught to return.
Many vans passed.
All except the one I was waiting for.

When it had started to rain
I figured that God was sending me a message.
The van wasn’t coming back.
Dad wasn’t coming back.
Why did he go without me?
He looked at me straight in the eye,
Although it felt as tho he looked straight past me.
Why couldn’t he recognize his own daughter only a few feet away?
He simply went to town without me.
…
…
…
That’s why he hadn’t crossed the road to get me,
Because I wasn’t there at the Bus Stop.