Faces

What happens to those people you pass on the street?

People that I meet and pass in the city's broken roar,
Faces that I lost so soon and were never found before.
Do you know how much you tell in the meeting of our eyes?
How ashamed I am,
To have pierced your poor disguise.
Secrets rushing without a sound,
Crying from their hiding places.
Let me go, I cannot bear the sorrow of the passing faces.
People pass in the restless street,
Can it be, oh, can it be.
In the meeting of our eyes, that you know as much of me?

Author's Note

This is one I entered into a peotry contest.

Reviews

[Scott Lynn]

I wonder about people I pass everyday. What their stories are, how they got where they are. This poem brings out that emotion. Good job!

[fionnaiscool]

Its cool. Your right, people look away and it seems like everytime your eyes meet "secrets" are shared and you learn more about a person somehow...

[Mintwhiskers]

i like it so great good emotion

[Pakino]

I feel the same way as well when I see people. The questions you raise are so true of an urban life. Great read.

[Mysty Rayn]

I have often wondered this myself. Nicely put, nicely said.

[lots fo love ♥]

this poem was great. so true. pure. wonderful.