There was a boy on the bus crying

I got off the train

Decided to run for bus despite the long line already waiting for it
You don’t get anywhere in life if you don’t hustle

Man and boy on line

In front of me
They’re having a quiet conversation

I don’t hear it, not for inability

But it’s hard to hear what you’re not paying attention to

So they get on the bus standing
I get on the bus, and sit

And they’re there, talking

The bus pulls out

Goes past that burned out grocery store
And the third stop

They hug, not like family or friends

But like one person just came back from near death
Or the person who’s leaving and never coming back

That’s how they hugged

And as the bus filled up, they continued their embrace

Finally they let go

As the boy sits down the man departs

A whistle comes from outside
The boy looks up
A glow comes to his face

He picks up a slight smirk

And lifts his hand in recognition

Not to wave, but to acknowledge

And his head returns to the hand from the elbow balanced

On his knee

And he sits

I sit watching him

For a time

I wondered what the story was

I had noticed the significance of their hug

And the boy sat there

And began to cry

The napkin he used

You want to-

Go up to him and tell him

I understand the pain

Not necessarily his plight

But the pain involved

I should go up to him and tell him

Keep your head up

But I decided to wait

For the stop before my stop

And I stood up

Stepping between his feet to get by

A violation of personal space, which makes most people look up

He didn’t

Remaining with his head in his hands, and his elbow on his knee

And his other hand draped between his legs

And why that made me panic

The literal connection between keep your head up,

And the fact that he was looking at the floor

His fixation on the rubber floor

And how I panicked

Because he didn’t look up

How the bus pulled out

And made it’s way to my stop
And I’m torn

To talk to him

Or get off

I got off

And immediately regretted it

Moral of the story

I never saw him again

But you never know the battle the person next to you is fighting

So always be considerate

Consider what might have been different if I had reached out to him

Changing the world

But I missed it

So when you get the chance

To reach out and help

Do it

Because regardless of the outcome

You can always say you tried.

Because this boy on the bus went on crying

And I will never know

What was it inside

That was dying.

© 2006 Eugene Aarons-Cooke