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Wrinkled skin, such apparent loneliness, but a slight glow still in her eye.
Her work unseen, she scrubs and toils voluntarily.
Striving for others’ happiness.
Pressed pants with sleek button-up shirt, a constant image.
A man with wanting eyes.
Touch of his skin is cold.
He bleeds account numbers and constant projects.
Military-style hair with athletic soccer build.
Glides through life a magnet for ribbons and trophies.
Carries a look that screams, “Don’t stand in my way!”
Perfection is stamped on his forehead.
Given everything, but my eyes are black and cold, lost in a gaze.
Empty heart, that doesn’t want or strive.
Confused on my path, but not seeking for the right one.
Just putting one foot in front of the other.