I prefer I stay home lest
Running into someone, and
Having to interact, but, I can't forget
This old lady I met on the pavement, who seemed
As willing to interact as I was; when she
Kept perusing through her dilapidated phone with
Fingers; so callous yet shaky, and
Avoided crossing the road time and again,
Even though the signal had turned red, and
How her hooded eyes peered at me when
I asked her if I could help, and,
She held a smile of relief, I suppose,
As she nodded and walked along gripping my hand,
Then, bent a little; for
I was a few centimeters shorter, and whispered,
"I get nervous you know, now that I'm a little old."
And I, smiled a flamboyant one so as to calm;
Both her and my disturbed self, and said,
"I'm seventeen and socially awkward; believe me, you're doing great."
***
~ Nida
