PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There are eight women in my line of sight including me
Three are sleeping
Two reading
One is texting
And two are people watching in the abyss of the Toronto subway
Only one of us is obviously sad
Wounded over something
Their soul bleeding
Blown wide open for all to see should they only dare to look
But the subtle signs
The nuances in facial expressions and posture
Four hunched heavy shoulders
Two pairs of nervous lowered eyes
One cross armed love proofed vest
The subtle signs in the bits that no one looks at
The sorrow only seen under God’s microscope
It’s evidence that perhaps those statistics are wrong