• lifestruck_poetry 6w

    The girl on the streets

    Walking down the streets,
    She noticed him.

    Lingering down, hands in pockets,
    An uncanny drift followed him.

    Thought she waving her hand,
    What if he needed help?

    With increasing pace, she catched up
    Walking two spaces behind him.

    She felt the drift,
    Yet she didnt say anything.

    To break the uncomfyness she spoke,
    "Hi Nice to meet you! I am Grace, you?"

    He stared at her with dreary eyes,
    Wanting to carry his own business.

    Yet,

    Something stopped him.
    Maybe his past experiences were warning him?
    Who knew.
    What hid behind that old letterman jacket
    And those pretty blue eyes,
    That reflected the busy streets.

    He thought,
    Maybe she didnt knew the world.
    Maybe she was new in these streets,
    Where the darkness took hold of,
    Everything radiating light.

    But something confused him.
    He had seen her many times before,
    Yet she looked the same
    As if nothing harmed her,
    As if nothing brought a change in her.
    No swearing, No anger outbreaks.

    In fact,
    She was trusting him blindly.
    She was opening her zones to him.
    She was unlocking a branch of her curiosity.

    He couldn't understand.
    He went with it,
    Observing her blonde hair
    And the eye stunning smile,
    He said "Hi"

    Suddenly that drift following him
    Zapped out,
    The past thoughts faded out
    And these results showed
    In his cascading smile.

    Maybe it was time for him,
    To think
    That some light may shine abright,
    That not even the darkest of dark could gulp.
    ©lifestruck_poetry