Commentary and Philosophy Poetry posted July 11, 2024


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A woman takes the train to work

The Woman on the Train

by Pamusart

She saw him almost ev'ry day.
They passed each other on the train.
Folks always put him on display.
He took some codeine for his pain.

She saw his bloodshot eyes get wild.
They fixed her with their steely stare.
She felt as fearful as a child.
Her body felt exposed and bare.

He started nodding in his seat.
His slurring words were not real clear.
His feet were twitching to the beat
of drums that only he could hear.

Some quiet groans escaped his lips.
She wondered why he sat near her.
His hands wiped tears with fingertips,
but empathy did not occur.

Like ev'ry one, she shied away.
He tried to talk, but sounded weird.
They all ignored what he would say.
She saw food bits inside his beard.

She tried to find another seat,
whenever he sat next to her.
She started dreading when they'd meet.
Compassion didn't even stir.

Then, one fall day she rode ahead,
and got off at the stop he used.
She followed once she saw his head.
He always looked so darn confused.

He walked into the poplar woods,
onto a path unknown to her.
She saw the homeless in their hoods,
and saw how hungry they all were.

The fire they built was roaring strong,
but empty bowls were all around.
She felt that things here looked so wrong.
Their sleeping bags were on the ground.

Reporting them to the police,
would cause possessions to be seized.
She knew they'd never be at peace.
A few of them just coughed and wheezed.

The noble thing she could have done,
She had the money and the time.
She could have made them feel they'd won.
They never asked her for a dime.

'Twas clear that they were all in need,
and had no money for the store;
the perfect time for her good deed;
the time to help their spirits soar.

Instead she turned, and then withdrew.
Alas, she chose to turn away
She never once had any clue,
She didn't know just what to say

One day he didn't board the train
She wondered if he was okay.
That thought was brief inside her brain
She fell asleep along the way.



Recognized

#87
July
2024


She is not unlike most of us. We are frightened by some of these tangled haired weirdos. But the reason some have hair that is tangled is because they sleep on the ground in their sleeping bags.

The best thing to do is to give to charities that help the homeless. Make sure it’s a good one. I can recommend the salvation Army. But I know there are others

The Salvation Army will provide jobs for homeless people and a place to sleep until they are back on solid ground

This is fiction. I am not the woman on the train. Lol.

Credit Google for the photo

Thank you for reading my poem
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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