She sat facing me on the train
And the way she looked at me
I sensed she could feel my pain
She seemed compelled to dip into my mind
Trying to meld
To see what she could find
There was a kindness to her face
And it was clear that her intention was not
to debase
But I did begin to wonder what she was
intending
Did she seek to fix what needed mending?
She continued to scrutinise
And when she realised what she’d already
surmised
She gave me a knowing smirk
Like she’d cottoned on to one of my quirks
I tried to strike up a conversation
But when the train arrived at the next
station
She got up to go
What she saw I’ll never know
She smiled at me before she left
And said, “A heart that’s full is not
bereft.”
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