Hollow

Sitting in this bus stop,
Watching people pass by,
All are in a hurry,
But tomorrow comes at its own time,
My location helps me to think,
It makes me wonder why?
What's in this pace that we follow?
Other than making our lives hollow,

Few see me sitting,
Wondering why I am alone?
But they are getting late,
Observing me isn't worth the wait,

A girl sitting beside me is curious,
Her thoughts about me are various,
But I'm busy writing this poem,
She's probably getting late for home,

Thus I lose my chance for company,
Busy scribbling poetry,
Loneliness has driven me to this,
Leading my common sense amiss.