The bus hums through the night,
a forgotten wallet whispers
between the seats, a pause,
where unspoken words linger,
like a rak sepatu on the porch.
A conversation never had,
frozen in the chill air,
questions that drift, unanswered,
as the bus sways, cradling silence,
a momentary shelter from the cold.
The night stretches on,
with pauses like deep breaths,
a reckoning unfolds quietly,
while the city lights blur past,
a reflection of what was left behind.
In the end, a realization dawns,
the heart finds its own warmth,
not in possessions or words unsaid,
but in the gentle acceptance
that love is not about holding on.

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