perhaps he sits down on his bed
eyes heavy from a long day's work

after the bustle of being
and the brightness of lights
and the noise of people
i suppose it gets lonely

maybe he wants someone to listen
maybe he looks to the sky
wishing that somebody out there
would listen

but little does he know
that somewhere not too far away,
someone sits by the windowsill
wanting to offer an ear
willing to give time
and would do anything to be the one
he would run to