I saw her on the train 

sitting alone, cross-legged  

on a seat for three 

grey hair woven into filthy braids 

a tattered cardigan and beige pants 

looking out through the window 

eyes shining brightly 

bony fingers scratching 

the lice infested scalp 

I stole a glance or two 

not without the fear  

of meeting her gaze 

as she sat rubbing her hand 

on her handsome, swarthy face 

Truth

He has come a long way
the light shone brightly
over the arduous path
distractions and decoys a plenty
but he walked on undeterred
with time as much a dimension
as distances and directions
many a strangers did he meet
many an acquaintances did he ignore
bearing his torch valiantly
and finally his journey ends
he reaches the terminus
only to find a giant mirror
a mere reflection of the torch he holds
of the light that belongs to him
disappointed he mumbles to himself
"truth is a mirror!
truth is a blunt revelation!
truth does not pacify or heal!
who needs the truth?"
and with his back against the mirror
runs away into the darkness