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A poem written at the library at 2:15 PM on a tuesday
The man across from me
sits with a thick stack of papers
With a silent sigh
An upheaval of shoulders
He slowly lowers his head down
Like a feather floating to the ground
His forehead rests on the stack
My heart goes out to this man
Looking at all the work he has in front of him
Feeling as if its an iron wall that can never be broken down
Later,
The elderly grandfather across from me
Sits with two books
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
and
Chinese to English Dictionary
He holds his head inches away from the book
Occasionally, he will refer to the dictionary
Once clear he pushes the dictionary away and brings back Huck
My heart goes out to this man
A brain where two languages fight for comprehension
A civil war raging and neither side understanding the other
Finally,
The girl across from me
Sits with a frown
The weight of the world
Pulls on her body
She cannot keep her eyes open
She cannot undo her frown
I know this girl
The mirror in front of me
Sits
With myself in the reflection
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Often times, empathy is sourced from our individual inclinations to reflect on strangers. It is from these personal interpretations that we sympathize with the struggles of others we see around us.