Angel and the Badman” by twm1340 is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

My Friend

She wandered down the boulevard alone.
Her hair tucked back in a beautiful cap,
That hinted of more to be known.

Her eyes were as gray as the twilight rays,
And few would understand her simple delight,
Of more is less and less is more on a quiet moonlit night.

Her hair was black as ebony and skin as fair as the dew.
Her breath was as deep as the ocean,
On a voyage to the moon.

Her overlay was soft and gentle, yet fashionable for her days.
Though few would notice the loving devotion,
That attended her transparent array.

She started into the station and pressed against the crowd.
Her head bent down, as if touching the ground,
In a world that was much too proud.

Sorrow attended her steps, as she waited for her turn.
Soon the transit doors would open, and she’d be gone,
In a moment or two.

I tried to reach her as the crowd and noise pressed in.
There wasn’t much time for I heard the train coming,
And I needed to reach my friend.

I yelled for her, but she must not have heard,
As the train came around the bend.
“Please wait! Don’t go! I’m here for you, my friend!”

She stepped inside the transit doors and turned to face the crowd.
Her expression bore the weight of the world,
And a love that would never be found.

I ran up to the platform as the doors closed with ease.
Desperately, I tried to get her attention,
Though she couldn’t hear my pleas.

A frenzy of sadness swept o’er me as the train began its ascension.
It was then I noticed the message she drew,
On the window while lamenting.

“A tear plus a cross equals a crown of moss,
It serves little purpose in the end.
If you really want to find me, my darling look within.”