I bought a small bouquet
of scrawny yellow tiger lilies
from a Chinese woman at the station
at seven p.m. on a Saturday night.
I needed the comfort and the color
without you here, and
she looked like she could use the two dollars.
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Washed out t-shirts and the smell of cigarettes.
So many other s have stood on these stairs.
Their troubles beyond my comprehension.
Consumed only in my own.
Ripped clothes and the smell of beer.
So many stand around me.
Their experience in the music,
so much different than mine
Formal suits and the smell of cofee.
Browsing over today’s agenda.
Their achievments,
so far above mine.
Everyday clothes, and no particular smell.
People with common intrest surround me.
Their feelings and emotions,
still different from mine.
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