I could be wrong but what I think he meant by the lines is they both have the same black tattoo drawn on them. "drawn me in" it has made him curious about the homeless man, where he might have just passed him by.
He feels a kinship with him now. That is why it is a heartache when he seems to be gone (perhaps even dead).
Well I’m here. Though not as often as I like. I don’t write as much as I’d like.
If this were a classroom, I’m probably the one timidly raising their hand to answer questions.
Hoping I’m not a waste of space.
Wait what is Space?
Truly someone must have known
Her troubled heart and mind
I was not in that circle
Remember my first sight of her though
The sad but pretty smile
Even now it haunts my thoughts
Eternity and the veil separate us
Never to be sure of what could have been
A Wick and Spark
Lest hope be forgotten
Allow the light from others to cast
Nothing shared is truly lost
This oftentimes troubles my moods
Evening can dim, if not for the warmth
Round friends united
Night’s secret is safe come the dawn
Real are these moments now
All we could ever wish for
Places our hearts have built
Time is what we make it
“Us” a bond imperishable
Rare what we found
Endless, bliss can be
Even as hope was slim
Not expecting much from Fate
Reason would have said “despair”
One day dawned clear
Under blue skies you spoke
Taught me to hope
Even Fate trembled
Touched by your strength
Our hearts found the path
All these pent up feelings
Will certainly be like the past ones
Knowing that I might not share them
With you, unless you find this page
Among my scattered notebooks
Realizing what they hide
Do you want to seek?
Prose is Special
How long have you been on this site? 5 years, though I haven't written nearly as much as most of you do in a few months :)
What brought you to Prose to begin with? Someone metioned Prose on SUPER so I browsed and started. I needed somewhere to write, it's strange I don't share my writing with my family or friends I don't know why exactly.
What is your favorite thing to do on Prose? Express myself among friends. That is Prose so many folks here are helpful friends. Challenges do help me when I need a push.
So the people here and their writing has been what keeps me here.
Thank you Prosers!
Scarlet not red, was the color of her petals
Caught was the eye of the gardener
As the wind ravaged the stately gathering
Real terror filled the gardener’s heart for her safety
Lest her beauty be lost in the storm
Even though removing her might be ruin as well
Time was not their ally
Remembrances of flowers past
Only haunted the gardener’s thoughts
Shall truth fade from this world’s day
Even now perhaps it is only in the mind’s eye
A smile lights her face
Let my heart be still
My mind can not comprehend
Only it must not be for me
Shyness holds me back
This could have been the One