I saw you,
and I hope you saw me too.
I nearly bumped into you,
but you pulled away.
You were in all black,
and I guess that's why I noticed you.
You didn't know,
but everything inside me was all black, too.
Floppy hair and brown eyes,
I guess that's why I was attracted to you.
You ran your hands through your messy hair,
I nearly melted.
But, we never talked,
never bumped into each other.
I won't ever know your name,
or your favorite song.
I hope you like comic books,
or cats.
We could've talked about music,
all your favorite bands.
Maybe you wrote poems too,
wove short stories from little encounters.
Maybe you liked art,
appreciated it as much as I did.
I can only wish this was true,
because I don't even know you.
I hope you find me again one day,
and we can finally get some coffee.
YOU ARE READING
the city
Poetryand no matter how much you water scorched grass and withering weeds, you will never make a garden re-grow -M.R c.2016
