Walking By

A poem about being ignored and how we do it all to readily.

Walking by people who don't see me.
Frowning faces that stare past.
Not a smile, or, "hello,"
only the cold passing breeze.

This is how we've touched
each other's lives,
showing nothing to one another.
For our lives are far too busy
to set that easy tone to the day.

So when you see me walking by
don't dare return my smile,
'cause I know that you're too busy
lost in your own little world.
The solitude, much easier
than to notice me.