burdened by the bustle
by the struggle, by the hustle
by the ever aching blindness
from a dearth of human kindness
vaguely longing for a smile
from the face across the aisle
from the other subway seat
yet instead we stare at feet
as the subway stops roll past
we listen to a podcast
or scroll our phones or look
unseeing at the pages of a book
seeking comfort in the worlds therein
and not the uncertain one we're in
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