Alone
Alone she sat on the Park bench,
her belongings beside her in a plastic bag.
All her life now in this bag.
People passed her by, without a glance.
How she had worked for the sick and lonely.
Now here she sat, forgotten,tired, and hungry,
Weary of this life that had dealt such a cruel deal.
They didn't know that beneath that tattered raincoat
beat a heart , long broken.
Her career forfeited for the man she loved.
Who long since had left her for another.
Never realizing that she was now a mother.
Her son grew into a fine young man,
Who went to fight for Queen and country.
The telegram was not surprising,a final blow
the Middle East an it's uprising,
Suddenly, her spirit broken.
She took to the road with just a token.
They passed her by, day by day.
Never knew that broken heart,
beating it's final retreat, beneath that grubby coat.
At night the doorway was cold and damp.
She laid her weary head on a folded newspaper.
The morning patrol approached, without feeling.
Report read:- Another tramp, a woman, dead.
Nothing unusual to report.
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