The train's pulled out and here I stand,
a stranger in this lonely land.
Though I have been alone before,
this loneliness is so much more.
Memories juggle within my brain,
trying to keep my conscience sane.
People push and pass by me;
I hide my tear-stained face and flee.
Both spirit and money tend to be low;
what good is direction when there's no place to go.
Poem by LSB (PoetryWings)