A street full of busy people, a day like every day,
People walked by each other in parallel lines,
Always somewhere to be, always a different story,
I wonder why we never said hello.
On the train, on the bus, so close but not really in our minds,
When we did talk to the people who we did not know,
Who have given as a kindness, a direction perhaps?
We part ways without knowing their name,
“You can get to that café by going right, it is a lovely one”
” Your daughter is so be beautiful how old is she?
“why thankyou, she is 9 months, do you have any children?
People, we all have different stories, but we are not that different
We’re just trying to get by, walking in our parallel lines.