Notthing is what it seems...

As he walks back to the street,
He sees a little girl,
"Where is your mother?" he says,
Watching her words unfurl,
"I've been here quite some time..."
She says back to the man,
"Standing here for a while,
I don't know where I am..."
He takes pity on the idea,
Of a child all alone,
"Come with me," he says,
"I'll help you to get home..."
So on the way they went,
Walking aimlessly in the streets,
Not a soul in sight,
Not a single eye to meet,
They continue to walk on...
Unaware of where they were,
They stop to think of a plan,
In the streets they start to confer,
He reaches in his bag,
Pulling out his phone for help,
It rang twice then static,
He couldn't describe what he felt,
Throwing his bag on the ground,
He turned around, unable to translate,
Looking in shock around him,
To be standing by the cemetary gate,
She followed him inside,
Where he had ran in to see,
Sobbing the entire way,
On how this all could be,
She found him standing there,
By a grave next to a tree,
She couldn't hear what he said, but,
"Oh my god...this grave...is me!"