Passing By

All of our lives intertwined;

so connected but so distant.

Men and women roam the streets, stories trailing behind for miles.

On the daily we pass by, unconcerned and unaware of triumph and of struggle.

Money meeting poverty.

Homeless meeting Mansions.

Dropouts meeting Degrees.


Rooms full of people, history filling up ever inch.

Misunderstanding fuels decisions creating judgements.

I see a boy on the street with a scuffed face and baggy clothes,

and I think: He's a trouble maker

little do I know...

he has no mother or father,

he boxes underground,

he works as hard as he can to get B's.

I pass a young man in pants and a tie, smiles at me walking by,

and I think: Nice young man, doing well, probably has a nice house and family.

little do I know... 

This is his third job interview this week. 

He's got two mouths to feed, and no wife to hold.

An apartment; when he wants a home.

Again I see a young lady pass me in a short skirt and a tight blouse.

and I think: Promiscuous 

little do I know...

She's got a lot of money at home.

Dad's always working, no one to notice when she crys for help.

Got a lot of pain behind those shadowed eyes.

A lot of words to say behind those glossed lips, but no one to listen.

Looking for attention and for love.

Little do we all know about the people we pass.

Bubbles floating around, unaware of the truth behind the faces.

Souls judged by shells.

I walk down the street, myself,

but little do I know...

what they see.


Lives winding by, tangled through truth, freed by ignorance.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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