Beautiful faces
in the most unexpected places
remind me that there's more to life
than this.

Each and every one,
a story all their own.
A lifetime of hurt,
of joy,
of perfect imperfection.

All at once
the crowd screams their pain:
   neglect
   abuse
   failure
   loss
   empty homes and
   shattered hopes,
they scream in utter silence.

You are not alone,
their faces whisper.
Their quiet reassurance more musical
than the song playing
in my ears.

Slowing to a stop
we each grab our bags,
exit without a word,
and scatter to follow each of our paths.

Unspoken therapy
at nine in the morning,
Forcing an interesting sense of gratitude
towards a broken down car
and a broken down spirit.