The Passerby

There once was a man sitting near the street
Laiden with sorrow, looking at his feet
He noticed a peculiar passerby
And couldn't help but wonder why
This person stood out today.

Then he realized, with some shock
The direction this person seemed to walk
Toward him? Is that possible?
He, the lonely one who spend his days watching the clock
When this passerby reached him, they began to talk
Simple conversation, but soon it evolved
And the man could tell
This person wanted his sorrow to be solved

Why should she care?
Of the things on his mind, she must not be aware.
Because the things he had done would certainly scare
Her away. Wouldn't they?
This passerby seemed to somehow know him well
Had they spoken before? He could hardly tell.

Everyone felt so distant in this lonely one's eyes
As if they were all wearing some disguise
He remembered this girl,
Somehow... but from what?
All he remembers doing is sitting in that spot...

Still she seemed to know about his life
And... care... about him? Yes.
Then it came. He did know her.
And he remembers telling her she was once a cure
A cure from some other rough time that he had
She noticed his realization, and thought "Ok, now this wont be so bad."

Or did she only imagine it?
Does he really remember?
She feels the distance from him
Just as he feels it from the world.
Would that ever change back?
Would that friendship she so enjoyed
Ever cease to lack?

She can only hope
And try her best
To remind him she cares
And make the bond last

She knows how close they had been, not long ago
And is slightly confused as to how it changed so.
How, in so little a time, had he distanced himself?
Should she let it go?
NO. She refuses to put her feelings to the shelf.

She would keep trying
Keep praying too -- and all the while thinking
"I believe it will come back... even if now I'm only a Passerby to you."