People come, people go.

I wait.

Faces in the crowd
Nothing else.
I stop to look, to catch a glimpse.
Will someone stop?
Will someone listen?
Will someone care?

Who am I looking for?
Do they have a name?

I do not know.

I simply wait.

Rain, thunder, birds, leaves,
These are my friends.
We share our pains.
The seasons change.
An old bench turns into hope.

I wait.

Years have passed, but still I sit.
Many more shall come, of that I am sure.
But what are years,
When waiting becomes triumph?
My day shall come.

I hear a voice, I hear them speak.
Then I blink, and they have gone.
I smile, I laugh, but all that others see is a fool and his grief.

And yes, today it is I who have lost again.

Yet I do not cry that it is passed, but smile that it has happened.


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