Walking down the street that used
To be so familiar in so many ways, like that
Crazy old man who always had the walking
Stick, coming up to her and asking her
For her autograph, as well as others.

Feeling like she was the queen of that street,
She would walk around with her head up
High, feeling the hot sun hit her dark brown eyes.

She would always saying “hello” to all the elderly people
sitting on their decks, sipping tea with their loved ones

All the stray dogs or cats coming to walk with her,
She always made sure she had something
For them to munch on.

And now, that old man sitting on the side of the
Street asking for her autograph had now
Moved on to another street or town.

She walked down that same street with her chin
Resting on her carmel chest, making
No contact with other walkers.

Everybody in the neighborhood understood
Why she was now so shy, the elderly people
Did not make contact with her either.

When those same stray pets come and walk with her,
She gives them a little nudge with her foot,
Feeling sorry for the lonely pets. So far it
Seems like they are the only people, well
Things, that understand what she is going through.