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