She stares.
Her eyes empty, and sad.
Her belly swollen
with child.

They look at her.
They see no gold band
that should adorn a
young woman's finger.

They click their toungs,
the soft 'tsk, tsk' floating
past her ears as if she
can't hear them.

She waits by the docks
for him, hoping he'll
come home to her.
'Who is she?' They wonder
'What is she waiting for?'

Not that they care,
its just more gossip to share.
But what they don't
notice, or even care to see,
at the end of the dock,
She waits, and she cries.

Because he's never coming home.