From one of my escapades, I met her,

It was a deserted path,

Meters away from the community church,

Alone, she was walking,

She espied me, then started stalling.

Rugged garments, tatted skin,

Looked unkempt, dirty like a trash bin,

Stone faced- looking mean.

Where have you been?

Attempted to talk to her,

She stared like she had seen a ghost,

I could tell she was lost,

I stretched out my arm,

Had to explain I mean no harm,

You could use my help at this moment, I offered,

She looked away, didn’t seem bothered,

You look cold, I told her,

She nodded, as if to concur,

Mind if I take you to my home? It’s not far,

I know, you’re scared, was headed to the bar,

For a couple of drinks, and to meet my buddies,

Who had promised me lots of goodies,

But since I’ve met your cold poor soul,

Allow me be kind like the Good Samaritan,

My home is as warm as wool, unlike this cold place,

You too could become my good buddy,

She smiled, maybe she found that funny.

I stretched out my hand again.

Wanna come? She shook her head,

Didn’t want to come to my house,

Could tell she was timid as a mouse,

Her blue eyes had seen more melancholy,

Distress, despair and desolation, nothing jolly.

Abruptly, she faced the West, and went away.