When I walk down the street toward home, I often see him standing outside, deep in thought. Sometimes I call out, and sometimes I just wave. Sometimes we embrace, and sometimes we kiss. Sometimes we hold hands and say nothing, because there's nothing to say. And sometimes I just keep on walking, and pretend I don't see him at all.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The way things are
When I walk down the street toward home, I often see him standing outside, deep in thought. Sometimes I call out, and sometimes I just wave. Sometimes we embrace, and sometimes we kiss. Sometimes we hold hands and say nothing, because there's nothing to say. And sometimes I just keep on walking, and pretend I don't see him at all.
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