I need to get a grip on myself. I can see disappointment and sadness in their eyes sometimes now. It's killing me.

I hold my breath and count to ten as images pass through my head like neon lights glowing blinking flashing screaming on the corners of streets of a never-ending city day as a man nearing the end of his days falls down as a crowd gathers around him and he says he is sorry and tells them he is dying but they don't give a promise back but he still tells them he's been watching this world pass him by all his life believing that one day someone will stop for a second and finally be interested in the things he has to say but even then as he tells them this wish they do not care to listen for they are on their phones dialing 911 and emergency and children start crying while moms cover their eyes and dads act like heroes and a few tears are shed for this man on the corner of a neon glowing street night and day while somewhere else there lies a tear on the ground from a woman in an airport with her luggage busted and things astray as she collects her papers her words her thoughts her dreams her wishes as they are all over the ground and people step over and on them and don't care to help her for she is not on their want list their need list their help list for she is a woman who is crying in an airport for the things she has lost while there is a man on a street corner dying for the things he has never had they all think in their minds but if they knew this man could change the world with his hands behind his back he could change someones thoughts someones ideas someones structure then they may listen to him as he lays on his grave and tells the world he has never been loved even now as he is dying and he just wants to speak to someone to tell to someone that he is the place a person falls to when life gets hard he is the shoulder the keeper of secrets the kindness through their pain he is the wisdom the knowledge the prophet of everything when things go wrong and he doesn't know what it means to be loved he doesn't know how it feels to be loved but the people huddled around him do not hear his whispers they only hear their bosses yelling their spouses demanding their children complaining the media threatening and the sound of the tears hitting the floor from the woman in the airport who has lost all of her things who would tell a passing stranger her favorite word is melancholy for that is how she has been her whole life because of the strangers who pass her by the strangers who are frightened by such a word who are shocked by such a word who don't know what to do with themselves the moment they hear such a word and all they think about are their forming opinions of her because of her favorite word as the man on the dying corner whispers one last time he can see all of their faces change as worry consumes them and all they want to do is escape.

By Calvin