#996-Passer-by

I could count you,

But won’t.

Too many.

Some missing.

A few covered.

I like looking at you.

But you’re not smiling.

Colorful, bright,

Yet indifferent.

Perhaps mocking me,

For trying,

To create meaning,

Out of nothing.

Then again,

You’re a flower.

Me,

Just another passer-by.

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