Image for the poem The Bustop

The Bustop

I saw her....
sitting at the bus stop...
clutching her bag like everything
she thought valuable was in there.

Hair...long and tangled
clothes...worn and tattered
as she chattered...quietly,but
intently to herself.

I sat at the coffee shop on the corner
watching her as she folded and unfolded
a handkerchief she held in her hand.

I wondered if she was somebody's Mother
I wondered if she was somebody's Wife
I wondered if she was somebody's Lover
I wondered....what happened to her in this life
As so many people passed her by....
No one stopped to ask if she was alright
as I watched grey tears roll down her soiled face
Tears that seemed filled with the unkindness one finds
in the world....when they are lost.
As I drank my $4.50 latte
it began turning in my stomach,as I realized
I could have found something more
constructive to do with that money
Then as she cried...she started humming...
and people glanced with absurd expressions on there
faces at this revelation...
It was like watching it rain....while the sun was out
Maybe...the Devil was beating her up... on the inside.
A bus came ...and stopped right in front of her...but
she didn't move...she just kept right on humming,and crying
Now.. I had made up my mind.
I was walking across the street.

I quietly sat down beside she was unaware for sometime
that I was even there...finally I said..
"Miss, are you okay?,is there anything I can do to help you?"

At this she slowly turned to me and stared blankly
through tear stained eyes she said "Today,is my daughter's birthday,she would be 5,but...she died"
I didn't know what to I took her by her hand
and just smiled as she returned to humming that now familiar song
The Happy Birthday Song.

I don't know how long I sat with her,and it didn't matter
I just wanted to be there...because it was ...
The right thing to do.
Before I left I slipped a 20 dollar bill in her hand
and my number....
Not even knowing if there was anything else I could do short
of taking her home with me...
but sometimes...we have to put our own troubles
on the back burner...and open our eyes...
To the pain...that is pouring out of so many other
peoples lives...
As I laid down to rest ...this woman crossed my mind
I still did not know her name or her daughters name for
that matter...
So I said a silent prayer for the Mother
and wished this nameless child happy birhtday
before I drifted off
into a not- so- restful sleep
Written by Firebyrd
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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