Strangers Feud

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I was afraid of the London cold.

 

I had to fight this burning fear myself.

Trees blurred, as my train roared past.

I was hidden inside my scarf.

My religion, my beliefs, my opinions,

irrelevant. ‘Tickets Please!’

Stranger’s eyes assault my face,

they don’t bother looking away.

They choose their seat carefully,

relocating their inconsiderate selves

away from the one next to me.

Shapes of giant buildings

consume the rickety train.

I just wanted to be myself

and to not live in distress.

I look up from my watched seat,

to see a man snigger and stare.

He doesn’t divert his spiteful eyes,

he knows that I am aware.

Uncomfortable and uneasy,

tears fill my painted eyes.

I turn back to face my foe,

whose eyes lie upon my body.

I frown in hope he will stop and

understand how I feel.

We slow to approach the

dreaded station. Ready for the

humiliation. How can an honest

woman,  not be accepted as herself?

A joke. A disgrace. Different.

 

I was afraid of the London cold.

 

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