MAD BUT KIND
I saw her in the street at night.
The sky had newly lost its light.
She was about fifty years old;
her face was ***** but so kind.

She had a cigarette in her hand
but not a smoker, l perceived.
She was quite strange to curious eyes.
I looked at her with mild surprise.

She glanced at me just like a child,
and offered what was in her hand.
She seemed afraid of smoking it
and like a child gave what she got.

She was so scared of her wrong deed
and as a young girl she appeared.
She had a defect. That was clear,
but she was soft, which moved my tear.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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