Picture this;

Man in stress,

head down,

depressed.

Bleeding hand

clutched tight

to vest,

shallow breathing

rocking chest. 

There but

for the

grace of God

go you, 

not  I, 

for I’m

a girl

who makes

boys cry. 

Now,
Shh

don’t speak.

It’s best.

Just pass me by.

Jusy move on to the next.

.j.