deepundergroundpoetry.com

From Unknown

Dear Stranger:

Without the knowledge of your name,
I write.
There's just something about you,
maybe it's your vibe.

Torn jeans and faded Tees,
How is your day?
Tattered boots, a torn school bag,
you've walked pass my house every day,
for several years.

With gaunt eyes, you look real
tired, as bags haunt beneath.
I must confess I'm worried,
that you don't get much sleep.

Your house sounds like a
war field.
Your parents go at it ever day.
You drown out the argument,
but can you tell me, dear Stranger,
are you okay?

You stand strong,
and do what you must,
walking as if nothing happened.
I've not seen any one
reaching out a hand,
as they see you walk by
obviously beaten.

You might be asking,
what is my deal.
I swear i'm not a stalker,
I was just wondering how you feel.

Does any one know?
Can I know?
I write this thinking that
it would be better for you if
I was unknown.
You can trust me,
believe me,
You won't be able to take it
all on you own.

So before you break,
I know you have lots to say.
I will listen to everything,...
so tell me dear stranger,
Are you really okay?