Through the eyes of a stranger,
I walk the crowded streets,
My thoughts hidden behind
A façade of indifference.
Always writing under breath
Each step the rhythm of a song

I listen for the murmurs,
The stories left half-told,
And with borrowed breath,
I weave their words into verse,
A silent chronicler,
Of lives intertwined.

Beneath the surface of each face,
A universe of fears and farce
Their hopes and sorrows,
Echoing in its urbane hum.

Children’s laughter mingles with
The weight of grown up burdens,
A symphony of our joint existence
Playing in the back alleys and boulevards.

Each encounter, a fleeting moment,
A glance, a gesture, a whispered word,
Adding threads to each tapestry,
Of a city alive with unshod tales.

In the café corners, secrets whispered,
Lovers’ quarrels, and reconciliations,
The elderly, reminiscing about days gone by,
Youth, restless and yearning for the future.

I am the observer, an unseen poet,
Capturing the essence of humanity,
Turning the ordinary into the extraordinary,
Through the alchemy of language and empathy.

With every step, I absorb their essence,
Their laughter, their pain, their resilience.
Through their eyes, I see a world

All at once bright and chaotic

Vibrant with color and complexity,

A dance of life in constant motion.

As the day wanes and the streets quiet,
I carry their stories with me,
Then transmuting into verse,
A testament to the beauty and fragility
Of human connection, disconnection
Seen through the eyes of a stranger.