Numbness Throughout Time

Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
They all come and they all go
And I wait here in the shadows,
Wondering when I’ll get home.

They all pass me by but never
Truly look inside to see
If the smile shown in my window
Has any trace of sincerity.

Passers-by and, sadly, strangers:
That’s what they are all to me.
They can hold my hand but never
Can they give me warmth to feel.

So, spring comes and so does summer,
Autumn, winter—all the same.
And I wait here in the shadows,
Wondering where they all went…

– Patricia