To the Young Woman

To the young woman

Sobbing uncontrollably

On the bus

Burning eyes staring blindly

Holding your shaking transfer

With mother angel’n behind you

Stroking your crying hair

You

Turned backward

In seat

Feverishly blushing

Insistent tears draping your face

Rolling down frail arms to the handrail

I don’t know what happened to you

But I can guess

And I’m sorry for you

And I’m sorry for me

I’m not allowed to approach

Or comfort you

I must stay

In my seat

And act like I don’t notice you

At all

Like you don’t exist

Like I don’t exist

Like none of us exist

When we’re sad or hurting

Pain inflaming us

Please close your eyes

Stop looking at me

There’s nothing I can do