June 7th: Poetry

I stood this morning
on the platform
waiting for the E train,
nodding to my headphones,
adrift in my own world

And then I spied
the statement
etched in marker
on the tiled wall:

"I am alone
in this world," it said
"There's no one
who loves or cares
for me."

Having stood on
this platform many
mornings,
I knew this handwriting
to be recent

So I took a pen
from my bag
and scrawled:

"Someone loves you."

And I spent the
rest of my commute

hoping that someone would.

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