A young girl
Pale
In grey rags
Sits outside Tower Hill station

I walk past
on my way to work

I hesitate

Can I really walk past?

I return

‘Are you ok?’
‘No’

‘Have you anywhere to go?’
‘No’

‘Do you have any money?
‘No’

She has a slight accent, somewhere European
I give her a five pound note

She smiles
Truly, smiles

‘Thank you’

I leave

And my heart aches for her
And all suffering