Ode To A Stranger

Who are you, dear stranger?

What dreams do you possess?

What talents lay beneath your armoured skin?

Oh dear stranger, how I wish that word was more than plastic. 

How I wish you didn't seem so strange. 

You and your funny walk, and wide rimmed glasses. 

I suppose everyone is a stranger. 

For do we truly know those around us? 

Are we, ourselves...

Strangers? 

We treat our bodies as objects and toys. 

We are not the puppet masters in this play. 

So hear me, dear stranger. 

Will you be the one to cut the strings? 

Will you be the director? 

Oh tell me dear stranger. 

Who are you in my play?