She stands there,
by the door of that moving train, deep in thought.
She is timid and recluse
The weight of life,
visible on her shoulders.
Her Japanese eyes compliments her smooth, mocha skin and tight curls.
She is beautiful in every way but doesn't seem to notice.
On the train, sprinkles of stares and glances forces her in a shell she doesn't know exist.
A man politely asks for her number but she just shakes her head no.
What is this girl's secret?
Is she envious like the green NYC sweater she wears,
That seem to overpower her petite frame?
Or is she just calm like her blue jeans that ever so easily hugs her hips.
Maybe she is content with the ending day.
You know what I think?
I think she is that normal one of a kind that just wants to get where she is going.
A destination only she can get to and others hate to see her reach.
For now, she is just that beautiful Girl On The Train.
A momentary name for a girl with a momentary destination
On a continuous journey to destiny.
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