In a place where whispers paint the air,
I tread on paths of unknown ground,
Faces stare with cautious care,
As if my footsteps make a sound.
Their eyes, a fortress built on doubt,
Among the smiles, a silence found,
A stranger seeks his way about.
I tread on paths of unknown ground,
Faces stare with cautious care,
As if my footsteps make a sound.
Their eyes, a fortress built on doubt,
Among the smiles, a silence found,
A stranger seeks his way about.
The streets, familiar to their kin,
A map of life they comprehend,
Yet here I stand, outside, looking in,
Their glances through me, never bend.
Their stories echo, tales well known,
In shadows, I become a blend,
A stranger’s voice, a muted tone.
A map of life they comprehend,
Yet here I stand, outside, looking in,
Their glances through me, never bend.
Their stories echo, tales well known,
In shadows, I become a blend,
A stranger’s voice, a muted tone.
The shops and homes, they weave a tale,
Of history in each brick laid,
Yet my own story, none avail,
To share, to hear, no bond is made.
I walk in solitude’s embrace,
Through lanes where memories parade,
A stranger in this storied place.
Of history in each brick laid,
Yet my own story, none avail,
To share, to hear, no bond is made.
I walk in solitude’s embrace,
Through lanes where memories parade,
A stranger in this storied place.
The gatherings at dusk, they cheer,
A dance of old, a song, a drink,
But in their midst, I disappear,
A ghost within the common link.
Their laughter rings, a chime of gold,
In hearts united, I just think,
A stranger, watching joy unfold.
A dance of old, a song, a drink,
But in their midst, I disappear,
A ghost within the common link.
Their laughter rings, a chime of gold,
In hearts united, I just think,
A stranger, watching joy unfold.
The children play, their laughter pure,
In fields where dreams and daisies grow,
But I remain, a shadowed blur,
An unknown figure they forego.
Their innocence, a guarded fence,
A line my weary heart won’t know,
A stranger’s quest for relevance.
In fields where dreams and daisies grow,
But I remain, a shadowed blur,
An unknown figure they forego.
Their innocence, a guarded fence,
A line my weary heart won’t know,
A stranger’s quest for relevance.
The church bells toll, a call to prayer,
In pews where secrets often spill,
Yet though I kneel, I’m unaware,
Of prayers they whisper, hopes they fill.
Their faith, a circle closed so tight,
In sacred halls, I find no thrill,
A stranger in the soft twilight.
In pews where secrets often spill,
Yet though I kneel, I’m unaware,
Of prayers they whisper, hopes they fill.
Their faith, a circle closed so tight,
In sacred halls, I find no thrill,
A stranger in the soft twilight.
The nights grow long, the stars are bright,
A canopy of endless skies,
But even under such a light,
I see the distance in their eyes.
Their dreams entwine in woven threads,
While mine, adrift, in silence lies,
A stranger in their shared homesteads.
A canopy of endless skies,
But even under such a light,
I see the distance in their eyes.
Their dreams entwine in woven threads,
While mine, adrift, in silence lies,
A stranger in their shared homesteads.
In quiet corners, I find peace,
A solace in the still of night,
Where echoes of their talkings cease,
And dreams take on a different light.
I build my hope, a fragile thing,
In moments free from wary sight,
A stranger’s heart begins to sing.
A solace in the still of night,
Where echoes of their talkings cease,
And dreams take on a different light.
I build my hope, a fragile thing,
In moments free from wary sight,
A stranger’s heart begins to sing.
With time, a smile might break the mold,
A hand extended, firm and true,
A story shared, a warmth unfold,
A bond between the old and new.
In hesitant and gentle ways,
Acceptance blooms, a seedling grew,
A stranger’s journey through the maze.
A hand extended, firm and true,
A story shared, a warmth unfold,
A bond between the old and new.
In hesitant and gentle ways,
Acceptance blooms, a seedling grew,
A stranger’s journey through the maze.
For every heart, a place, a time,
Where strangers turn to friends at last,
Where bridges build in softest rhyme,
And shadows of the past are cast.
In every town, a chance, a start,
A future freed from what’s surpassed,
A stranger finds his place, his part.
Where strangers turn to friends at last,
Where bridges build in softest rhyme,
And shadows of the past are cast.
In every town, a chance, a start,
A future freed from what’s surpassed,
A stranger finds his place, his part.
-
Author:
magic8ball1982 (
Offline) - Published: July 10th, 2024 21:09
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments1
We need to earn our place, may you have found yours.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.