I wander these crowded streets
Foreign, reserved, and alone
A past memory never repeats
Distant, concealed, and unknown

My eyes recollect the places
But the places appear much older
My heart will connect to the faces
But the faces appear far colder  

The strangers will pass me by
Ordinary, humble, or proud
Their voices will laugh and sigh
Composed, quiet, or loud

I walked once through this door
But the door remains never open
I felt belonging here once before
But the before remains now broken

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