Compassion

As I turned to my right,
out of the corner of my eye,
I saw her tears at the red light.

Her face flushed with honest tears,
but I felt pain, truth of her blues.
I'll never know her story's sorrow,
but each day I wonder of tomorrows.

Was she broken hearten from love or loss,
or mad over pettiness or coarse.
Her sorrow looked like love had left her heart.

I'll never know, but always wonder why.




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