She didn’t have many secrets
Or friends to tell them to
She was shamed and scorned
How long she had mourned
And longed for love to be true
Not so fleeting
In the bright light of sun
She had a refreshing meeting
With one who saw her
For who she was
He was the first
And the only one
Who could answer her questions
And quell her deepest thirst
He too was an outcast
A foreigner in this land
He crossed lines but with kindness
Receiving what she had to offer
A cup of cold water from her hand
A cup of cold water from her hand
---
March 11, 2015
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