As the train whistled past the lonely road,
She stood still.
The stale neon lights illumined
the plastic smile on her tender lips,
Her burdened shoulder stooped down,
Yet, she waved.
She was all but ten...

I got a glimpse of her sorrow beneath,
I blinked, and she was gone.
Will our paths ever cross again?

She was all but ten...

-Srividya
Dec 19, 2009