The Pretty Pink Skirt

I likely saw a girl die today,

On my way to work.

She climbed the side of a bridge,

In a pretty pink skirt.

I was stuck at a red light.

She was stuck on the precipice.

She never looked my way,

But I will carry her to my therapist.

The light turned green,

So if she jumped I didn't see.

But I thought about her all day long,

And how she's the same as me.

I wondered about her hopes and dreams,

The things that made her smile.

I marveled at the beauty,

That wasn't worth the while.

I thought of what kind of anguish,

Would drive a woman to a brink,

In Seattle in the winter,

Where I'd see her for a blink.

The pain is easy to imagine,

This is America after all.

And we are hungry like wolves,

And desperate for a fall.

Perhaps if we helped.

Perhaps if we cared.

Perhaps if we offered.

Perhaps if we dared.

But all the perhapsing in the world,

Won't change what didn't work.

For the girl who probably died today

In her pretty pink skirt.