Walking speedily to avoid the gatherings all over,
I fed up myself hoping to get way with love's cop,
It looks like your face chases me where-ever I go,
Can't you speak out of shadows stopping me on that last bus stop?
Sitting peacefully to avoid all the muttering in surroundings,
I open my phone to listen out those jingling clops,
It's look like your voice canter from those melodious tone,
Can't you wave your hands to call me back in that same bus stop?
Certainly I realise these are empty memories,
No hope can pick the worst moments out,
The bus stop is filled with people and no one calling back,
No chance of your voice speaking to come back enough loud.
Ultimately I do recognise they are only failed promises,
No matter how much I count those old memories to remain,
The bust stop have people but no one is familiar,
No chance of caring loved one's wave to act for gain...