Faces of Strangers



The face of a stranger

Haunts me,
It’s my brother
Looking distant,
Drunk with regret, melancholy, sorrow
Though we couldn’t know,
What was behind
The constant blindness,
I wonder now…
Why were you running?
Now, the face of a stranger,
Haunts me,
It’s you,
It’s the same distant sorrow
Painted on your face
Trying to forget,
Etched in the lines of your features,
In the tiny, wrinkles next to your
Light, blue eyes.
I don’t know why,
Strangers faces haunt me –
So much, lately.
I wish I could see your face,
Ask you, why?
But, I can’t.
And, I never can.
Maybe that’s what haunts me,
occupies my thoughts,
When faces of strangers
Haunt me,
It is their likeness,
And, their foreignness,
That remind me,
I can’t ask.
And, I never can.

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