All they have is silence
An appearance of kindness to share
They haven't any charm
They are the undocumented
As nomadic shadows
A differing markedly
From the usual, ordinary, or unaccepted
With a lack of knowledge
Others only see a cold soul
With a sad face
You hum your song
And daydream all day
But there is no way
To ever return from past days
No one has ever given
A shadow, breeze, nor
Whisper anything
There isn't anything to give
You were very wise
To just pass us by
We were only
Dreamily cold souls
With no stories to tell
If they would only smile
They have no charm
You all were so wise
And never the foolish
To just pass us by
Were we ever temporary
Such people full of passion?
They, the park bench people
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 11:15 PM UTC
All they have is silence
An appearance of kindness to share
They haven't any charm
They are the undocumented
As nomadic shadows
A differing markedly
From the usual, ordinary, or unaccepted
With a lack of knowledge
Others only see a cold soul
With a sad face
You hum your song
And daydream all day
But there is no way
To ever return from past days
No one has ever given
A shadow, breeze, nor
Whisper anything
There isn't anything to give
You were very wise
To just pass us by
We were only
Dreamily cold souls
With no stories to tell
If they would only smile
They have no charm
You all were so wise
And never the foolish
To just pass us by
Were we ever temporary
Such people full of passion?
They, the park bench people
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