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Short Poem: The woman on the train

The woman on the train Worn off hair clip, rugged handbag hanging by the shoulder. A clock ticking on the wrist. Eyes wandering away, towards the crowded faces. Thoughts taking over as if pleading a stranger; to bestow some kindness, perhaps, offer a seat. Wrinkled skin, weary eyes, but never a tired soul. As if forever toiling for bettering the lives, of those around her. A mother , is who I think she was. Bhakti G © 2019 - Dedicated to thousands of elderly women who continue working tirelessly for their family, inspite of the old age. This is inspired by one such woman I came across on a Mumbai local train.

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