He sits on the pavement by a small town bar.
Eyes closed, stomach empty, he strums a note
of angelic sound. Singing to the sky,
he exhales his soul to the world.
Small drops of change drip into his guitar case.
Singing and singing,
playing and playing,
he embodies the passions,
the dreams,
the ambitions of his youth.
"I'm a-singin' my days on through,
ain't nothin' to eat,
but ain't feelin' blue!"
he voices the chorus of life, until the lights turn out,
and he wearily walks back
to his van,
guitar case on back.

She steps into a reserved room
of cameras and flashes.
Head up, hair straight, she
shows a smile
of fake happiness. Speaking to the air,
she whispers words to herself.
Clumped people of society crowd around her empty bubble.
Moving and moving,
pushing and pushing,
she embodies the goals,
the pursuits,
the desires of her "others."
"If only...if only..."
she voices the chorus of
a thousand other
little caterpillars -
"If only...if only..." -
until the doors shut close,
and she briskly moves forward
to her next day,
silhouettes on back.