The Bus No.25 Poem by Faruk Ahmed Roni

On the bus marked twenty-five,
Each morning, they'd quietly arrive.
At the same stop, like a silent vow,
A boy and a girl, strangers for now.
Eyes would meet, a fleeting glance,
A silent hello, a wordless dance.
He'd get off a few stops before,
She'd watch him go, heart aching more.
The world moved on, yet they stayed still,
Speaking through looks, unspoken will.
Each day, their bond grew deep, yet shy,
A quaking farewell through the windowed sky.
But one day came, her seat was bare,
No gentle eyes, no golden hair.
One day turned to weeks, then more…
Her absence wound he couldn't ignore.
He sat in silence, the bus rode on,
Wondering where the girl had gone.
A shadowed stop, a life misplaced,
The bus now felt an empty space.
Months went by, the seasons turned,
But her return, he never earned.
And yet, each morning, he'd hope and wait,
For fate to bring her back through the gate.
In his heart, her face stayed bright,
Her fleeting smiles, the morning light.
Two souls that touched but never spoke,
A love that bloomed through glances broke.
The bus still runs, the stops remain,
But he knows he'll never be the same.
For in his heart, her memory thrives,
A silent love on bus twenty-five.