menghadapi ketidaksempurnaan hidup
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Ashtray in the Waiting Room
The bus drove away, leaving
my wallet, a silent witness
to the journey I didn't complete.
In the waiting room, as ash
fills the tray, I sit, counting
the spaces between breaths,
wondering about lost things.The night air whispers softly,
each star a distant memory.
Cigarette smoke curls lazily,
dancing in the dim light,
…