isn't it odd
how we can know
human nature
well enough
to write poems
that move others
to tears
yet must hear
the words of others
to cry
alone
.

Why is it
That the biggest hearts
Are emptied the fastest?

And the brightest souls
Are blackened
The quickest?

She rides the bus
Near a window,
To watch her world
Blur by;
She sits alone
At the back,
Distracted when she cries.
She grabs her bags of bags
When de-boarding at her stop,
Then sits on her cold wet bench
For her return ride.