A Girl Selling Fruits

Dusty hair untidily held high in a band,

Shining eyes below the fallen strand.

A perfect curve on lips, no matter the despair,

Clothes that hang around the body without a care.

Silver bangles to adorn the wrist on the right,

Drifting in the crowd in a movement so slight.

Making it difficult, the tattered boots,

Holding in hands, a huge basket of fruits.

I stood opposite as my train was to arrive,

Gaping at her and wondering her strive.

Embarrassed of her fate, she started to yell,

The fruits she had and the prices to tell.

Showing off a fresh apple that fell to the ground,

And i started to drift in her direction, oblivious around.

I picked it up and looked for the money,

To bring back the smile as sweet as honey.

Before I could start a conversation,

I heard a loud horn at the station.