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Isabella Sep 10
Behind every set
Of beautiful, glossy eyes
There's a whole story
based on the new word i discovered, "sonder". a poem with that title will be coming soon <3
Marmaelady Aug 6
I remember several months ago
I met a guard by a waiting shed
As I waited for my dad to pick me up from the pier
His name, I've already forgotten
He was around his 40s, or 50s
Childless, if I remember
Had a tough life
Graduated in International Relations
Came from a well to do Chinese family
Yet all came crashing down so soon
After a few decisions then and there
He spoke to me in English
We talked for awhile
He said, people usually looked down
On guards like him
Thinking they were uneducated
They couldn't possibly have interesting lives
And at that moment I realized
People pass by every single day
Without giving them second glances
Without realizing they're human too
With stories as exciting as those in screens.

My father arrives to pick me up.
I stand up, glance at the guard and my father, and I see -

Life is truly spectacular.

As I sit by the passenger seat and drive  away
The scenery changing before my eyes
I wonder if I was the first person to just sit down
And listen
I wonder how many sat down by that waiting shed before I did
Listening to his story
And I wonder how many have since then and will continue to
Listen
I wonder if I'll ever pass by him again
I wonder where he is right now
Is he still by that waiting shed?
Did he ever get a child?
Does he still remember me?
Was it perhaps all a dream I made up?
Who knows?

I wonder with glee and sadness
Knowing there are billions out there
With stories I will never know.

In my own waiting shed, I shall tell my story too,
Through my own fleeting life
Through the decisions I'll make
Through the people I'll love
Through the people I'll lose
Through these poems -

And I hope somebody listens.
A Forrest Gump story, don't you think?

People are interesting creatures. You just have to look deep enough. There is a story in every one of us, waiting to be told.

Sonder series #1.

Sonder (n.)
"The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own."

- Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
Henk De Wet Apr 22
I read a book
The heading said
Life
I had a look
Blank pages
7.5 billion stages
All faces
their own places
So spacious

All it took
Was one hard look
To close the book
And give a look
Fleur Mar 1
The thrum of a city’s streets; the lifeblood of the foyer’s rack.

A simple lobby to most in passing, yet—to some—a trap of loss and lack.
A meditation on people coming and going in life. Social circles, stations in life, and how permanent it all seems when you can't accept the process.
ry Nov 2019
a million passerbys pass
myriad of blurs and glimpses of life
fleeting moment starstruck at someone's
significant insignificance and
insignificant significance
a breathtaking epiphany
the art of wondering is somehow
frustratingly beautiful
Hannah Nov 2019
My soul fell out
It’s on the pavement -
Sprawled, a mess
You see it
And your head is turned.
I want to hide it
But it’s out there
In the open
People tread on it
Still, you stare.
Nolan Willett Oct 2019
A heavy, inward sigh,
As I stare at all the passerby,
Each with their own lives,
I wonder if they think of mine?
Moth Aug 2019
you stop and see
that there is more
so much more now
to everyone around

they're not a someone
not a face in the crowd
they have hopes and dreams
struggles and down days


Ever individual
we will ignore
going about life
focused on ours
Sonder is a beautiful word. It means the profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passed in the street, has a life as complex as one's own, which they are constantly living despite one's personal lack of awareness of it.
Jonathan Surname Oct 2018
What's the one thing you could talk about without rest?

Who's the one person that made talking effortless?

Where is the one that changed you for the better,

where is the one that made you your best?

When did it all occur, was it recently, or more in the past?

Is this one something or someone you wish you could have back?

People aren't things,
and also, they aren't chances.
They're the same solemnness
between the sonder and the glances.
We all have our thing and some of us may have more.
But I prefer the passions of the focused
for whom hearts with pulse on sleeve are wore.
not being rhetorical
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