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Station Woman

Station Woman

The sadness in her eyes,
Tell a thousand stories,
Of a million lies.

The hurt that she felt,
That woman so weary,
Doesn't show however hard you look.

As she washes her hands the water runs clean,
Though after all the deceit that she has befallen,
It amazes.

She only buys singles in stations,
Because she never wants to go back,
Back to where she's been.

The station woman stands,
Her headscarf and dark, dark clothes,
Allow her and her belongings to hide away.

The empty station platform,
Breathes life into the woman,
Who stands and waits expectantly.

She knows where she was wasn't good,
But she knows where she's going might not be either,
Nevertheless, she follows down the new pathway.

The railtracks are her parents,
The passengers her friends,
The people from her past,
Are just that,
From her past.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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