And She Walks By

Hollow eyes.
An empty stare.
Only vague sparks
That once something was there.
The faintest sense
She might have been crying.
The aching reminder,
That a piece of her is dying.

And she walks by.
We don’t care if she cries.
It’s all too bad,
That’s she broken inside.
It’s not our job.
To make her feel like she’s loved.
To stop,
To care,
To comfort,
To hug.
When she walks by.

She sits alone.
Eyes cast down.
She drowns out the sound,
Of others passing by -
Ignoring her agonizing sigh.
She tries to pretend the solitude
Causes no pain
All the while wishing
She had just one friend to claim.

And she sits to the side.
We don’t care if she cries.
It’s all to bad
That she’s broken inside.
It’s not our job
To make her feel like she’s loved.
To stop,
To care,
To comfort,
To hug.
Even though she sits to the side.

And we walk on by...