Crosswalk

I sit alone, inside a coffie shop on the corner of a busy street drinking my white hot chockalate.
Outside i look to see a group of people sitting, waiting at a bus stop,
each one of thoes people are different, yet going on the exact same bus.
Then i look to the right and notice a dad holding his daughters hand as they cross the crosswalk
as the mother pushes a stroller with a tiny baby inside.
Everyone seems to be moving forward, knowing where they are going.
except for one...
Me
I seem to be stuck.
I missed my bus.
The crosswalk disapeard for me.
Imortilized in memories, blinded by the futer.
Am i supposed to have a plan of where i am going liek everyoen around me?
I sit there in a daze trying to figure out my thoughts.
I look around one last time, to see a man curled up in a abandoned doorway
with two mismatched shoes with a tattered blanket, begging everyoen for a spear nickle or coin so he can buy another pack of cigs, or mabye some bread
from the bakery acros the street.
I stare at him, and ask myself
did he know where he was going?
Mabye knowone does.

Emma