dear the man who I look up to,
why is it that every time you walk past me
you take your time to stop and come back?
do you know that it gives me hope?
to keep sitting in the same place
under the shade of a perforated bus stop
the rain keeps me wet and cold
while the sun stings and burns my skin
nevertheless, I'm never moving forward
dear the man whom I long for,
why is it that every time you're with a company
you never take your time to glance at me
is it because of my appearance?
is it because of my rotten odor?
is it because you saw right through me the last time our eyes spoke?
had I known,
only if you told me with spoken words
that I'd understand the meaning behind your gaze
dear the man who changes his routes,
is it wrong for a filthy homeless man like me
to be in love silently with you?
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