who was left at the bus stop
that one Tuesday morning
and the mother never came back.
I forgave her,
for some reason
and that's maybe a human trait
to understand someone for giving up;
there's no room, really, for hate.
And in the end we just keep going
and here's how I know:
when I came back late that day
he was still there, smiling,
hoping
for a bus to come
to take him anywhere
but there.
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