In eyes of strangers walking by
I find my reflection and wonder why,
That it is by itself, alone,
That it appears like skin stretched over bone,
And there is no life to the facets of my eyes,
I see this all in another,
And in remorse, or maybe shame,
I look and see all of the faces are the same,
Reminding me ever constantly of you,
Though each face is someone new.
Showing me utter distain,
Understanding not what is pain.
I see you.
So how can I ever not feel this way.