She Chose to go Home

The woman everyone must meet
lives just a ways down my street,
She makes me laugh each time we're near,
her voice is one I want to hear.
Today I stopped in just to chat,
had never seen her in glasses and a hat,
I thought I knew this woman well,
but I came near to tears.
She did not smile, did not laugh,
how could I have not known?
While reaching out to give a hug,
she looked at me and gave a shrug.
Pulling off her glasses brief,
she gave me a quick look.
She is so deeply wounded,
it has to be textbook............
I took her down to my home,
where she could rest alone...
But sadly as the day was through,
she meandered her way home.


sjo/jazz

If you know of an abused woman, hold out your hand.
NO, THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME!!!!!!!!!

When people assume I'm writing everything about myself, they ignore my ability to deeply feel another person's pain. This is who I really am.I'm foibled and human, not jaded and uncaring.

thats a good poem.
its really sad though.
and its so true, there are so many people like that.

Good insight to the 'mask' people wear to hide reality, for whatever their reason may be...in this case, physical abuse..

Good read jazz!