A poem I dedicated to an unknown lady I saw on the subway |
Addressed to the young lady on the subway You're tired, I know I have the same mud splattered pants and wet soggy toes Complimented by an ever-dripping and scarlet-tipped nose I myself like to use scented Kleenex wipes. I had half the mind to say that you're crying and that's okay. (Rather, the actual act of crying is okay. I mean, who doesn't ever experience a terrible day? Not to belittle what you now feel! It's alright to be sad is what I'm trying to say I am sure your own reasons are very very real. So you're crying and that's okay) But we all hate nosy people on the subway and streets. So I'll soak in my silence Read cheap ads to pass the time Intrigued by all the vivid colors and big bubble signs Yet there you sit -- trying to hold it all in Looking around as if you committed a sin Your eyes water -- so why do you conceal? Can you honestly say it's a crime to feel? You're hurting so let yourself hurt Don't hide the streaks with the sleeves on your shirt Mourning has a purpose and serves it's own part So watching you withhold it is breaking my heart |