Passerby:

• Upon the Hearth

“I shouldn’t mind being a bride at a wedding if I could be one without having a husband” -Thomas Hardy (Far From The Maddening Crowd)

They don’t even know me,

All they do is stop and glare.  

Those roadside passerby    

They don’t even care.
Gnawing at frost-bitten fingers,

No good in my supply.       

They don’t even care

Those roadside passerby.
One penny of wholesome sympathy,

The tiredness of my sigh.

They don’t even care

Those roadside passerby.       
 They don’t even know me,

All they do is stop and glare.  

Those roadside passerby    

They don’t even care.
(Please do not copy or reproduce this poem without permission)

4 thoughts on “Passerby:”

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