passerby.

whilst walking I chance upon a passerby
and within each eye I see a story;
deep folds of tragedies and comedies.
I walk pass, and they walk by

and I bid adieu to all those lines I never read.
but I know they’re there, they always are.
just in a different language, or order, or rhyme.
but I always wonder: can they see mine?

peace.
-lise.