I look at people on
the street the subway
in my closed-lid wayward
stray glance in parks on
sidewalks I see
heaviness, a weight
they carry; this life
this existence sometimes
sadness on shoulders
sometimes like they’re
dragging a chain of
guilt regret…all struggling
against life, always against
what they don’t know
what they think they
know…what they want
to believe when believing
is all that relieves the
stress the strain friction
the burning dragging hurt
that slows and stops
dreams…and I silently
push myself toward a way
a method an idea how to
help but the gulf that
separates that fills the
emptiness between is
impervious…it seems
impenetrable from the
misalignment of what
I think and can say…and
what they can hear
and believe when it is
simply a glance a look
a moment in passing…