The Bench Poem by Ernestine Northover

I saw her and felt very sad
There she was, thinly clad,
Sitting on a bench on a railway station,
Motionless, there was no animation,
No showing of any observation,
Her aura was one of devastation,
Although things were happening all around her,
Nothing seemed to make her move or even stir,
Actually no movement of any kind,
She was acting, totally blind,
No spark of recognition,
Or of making a decision,
Staring blankly into space,
As if lost without a trace.
I wondered what was making her this way,
All I could do for her, was to silently pray,
And watch the tears go sliding down her face,
Oblivious of the place, that was her location,
Which was, sitting on a bench on a railway station.

© Ernestine Northover