The Last Bus

The last bus takes me home
And finds me melancholy
Python-like vines from within
Rise up to pull me down
I opened the door
Ignorant to the not-so-distant future
To covet or not to covet
It is not even a question
Green is the colour
And it deals half the damage
Unrequited desires
An old friend returned to greet me
The cosmos might not have meant for me to love
Just to sit and watch others
Knowing that my turn will never come
Like the drinking games I cannot play