Have you ever sat in a coffee shop and had the sudden urge

to go over to the stranger seated across

hiding behind her book

You’ll tell her you remember

How the book took you by surprise

made you cry like a child

And that she’s the only person

To now hold your secret? 

Have you felt your heart weigh down when you’re in the park

And you see an old man by himself

With a newspaper he’s not reading

Not lonely, but…alone

You feel an unexplained urge to stroll past

Ask him for the time of day, 

or directions to a place you know well

a place that you call home. 

Have you ever looked twice at the quiet troubled boy

who walks with his head hung low

Not low enough to hide his shame

And you have this speedy urge

To tell him everything will be okay

Even though you know better

Because what if that encounter

Makes his day a tad brighter? 

I’m often convinced in ways I can’t explain that I know them

Though my rational brain won’t process

They feel familiar in the dim recess

of my mind, and I try so hard

to quash each urge

Thinking that maybe

At some point, I was them 

And they are me.