I see people on the street
do they love
do they dream?
Everyday I drive past
that hobo by the stream.
Each time I could smile and nod
but instead I look ahead
I must get to my destination fast.

I sit by the same people in class
the blond, the redhead, the boy in the cap.
I could talk to them
see what they're here for
but between us will always be a gap.
For ghosts of the past look back at me
and on friendship I feel like I must pass.

What is eternal
what is true?
What ever happened between you and you and you?
Like Eliot am I doomed
to stand and watch the footman take another coat and hat.
Have I grown to old to roll on the grass?

I watch the people walking by
at the mall
by the stalls
Pretty, fat, short and laughing
or thin faced with years of longing.
All of them hold me enthralled.

I make up stories to go with the faces
Make up for each a drawl
and fill in my sense of belonging.
But is it their fault or mine alone
that I can never go into that crowd.
That the faces I meet
coming in at dreams
come to me while I sleep?
At night I've never screamed
cried into my pillow and thought of the death coming to me.
Because to me hope still gleams.