There he sits, in the square
He watches the people go by, as if no one is there.
He does not notice my eyes search through his stoic stance
He does not twitch as he enjoys the music’s romance.
He is lost.
His eyes are dark, like shadows in the creek.
They see everything, but they don’t seek.
There is a depth to them, but they only go so far.
Like an animal, and the people, that’s all they are.
To me, to him, that’s all they will ever be.
He doesn’t seem to notice my sketchpad,
Or his face in it, as it appears sad.
Look in my eyes, I plead.
He sees me only once, but he cannot read.
He cannot read the look in my eyes
He fascinates me; he never seems to surmise
That’s the only time he’ll look at me.
He calls it a day, and I watch him go.
He steps onto the street, and the crowd swallows him whole.
He walks with his head down.
He keeps his jaw clenched, neither a smile no a frown.
Look at his beautiful lips, his sleek hair
He’s the animal, taken from his lady fair.
I raise a brow, and go the opposing way.
One glance back, I see him once more, if I may.
He stares at me, and this time seeks.
I give a short, curt smile; my mind has not rested in weeks.
I dare not follow, and he dare not lead.
The separate path from a moment’s pause,
The time the earth stops with no cause.
I can already read him.
He has lost no muscle or limb
But a heart that he used to have.
He’s the animal downtown, walking the side of the road...
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