The lady, alone. A poem

​I wrote this on the bus today, I must have been feeling slightly melancholic for a change 😉 ​

For there were days when no-one came,
when all her thoughts were of the past,
She'd sit and dream and wouldn't blame
the ones whose friendship didn't last.
To her it seemed that given time
the deepest wounds would always heal,
the clouds would part, the sun would shine
and cast aside the pain she'd feel.
And if by chance someone would call
to see if she was doing well,
she'd smile and chat, pretend that all
was good and they could never tell
that she was lonely, missed the days 
when she could do what she would do,
she smiled again but wished that only
time might pass to see her through.
The day would come, the door would open
out on to another place,
but until then she knew she'd cope and
wear a smile upon her face.

© Jason Endfield 2017, all rights reserved.