Who's she?

She was talking too much
Too much, for me to bear
But then You had asked..
Asked me to listen..,,
Listen and listen..
But You know,
I was too tired..
Young enough to be tired
After whole day's work
And I thought,
I deserved much rest..
Still keeping You in my mind
I kept listening her stories
After some time they became
Meaningful, interesting,
And I realized,
I was learning..
Learning to find meanings,
Learning to find interests,
And a lot more..
Tired I was?
Was she not, at 62?
Working more than me,
Walking whole day through
steep ramps and stairs,
Trying to solve problems
helping the needy..
And I felt ashamed of myself
More mountains still left for
me to climb
More troubles still left to face
More misery,
More tears,
More sorrows,
And I felt she carried a treasure
with her..
Ready to share all with the world
Laughed at,
Misunderstood many times,
by the unhelpful and theselfish
Her stories go on and on and on
Ceaseless it seemed
Till I had to get down at my
bus stop.
Willingly waiting for our next
meeting thinking who she is?
She's more behind those deep
wrinkles and a bent frame..