On your way to school you always see him standing there waiting to say:
“Can I talk to you for a minute” or “Wait, hold up! Whats your name?”
He isn’t ugly or creepy
But, you know that he could care less about your name
or where you’re going
or the fact that you have a huge book bag making your way to school.
You simply just shake your head from side to side,
And smile; you smile because what he’s doing is very unnecessary.
He’s nothing more than a Stranger.
But today he tells you his name as you walk by, so now you know his name, you know his face but you don’t know him,
Isn’t that crazy?
When you finally make it past Stranger # 1,
You get on the train and you see Stranger # 2.
Stranger # 2 is a tiny bit different from Stranger # 1; you barely see Stranger # 2.
When you do, he always mentions that you should “hit him up”
And/or “come thru and chill one day.”
Clearly you two are in a different book,
On a different page.
Stranger # 2 is a pretty boy and loves attention .
Every time he talks to you,
You wonder in your head: “Why is he talking to me?
What about all those other girls?”
So then, you start to feel the familiar shame that all the Strangers bring.
They both have similar ways,
And yet you’re starting to feel the similar pain.
After your run in with Stranger # 2 you make it to school without any more interruptions.
The day goes by smoothly but at the end of the day you see Him.
In your mind he isn’t a stranger but your common sense tells you he is.
He’s definitively a ladies man.
Whenever you see him he’s always talking to some girl.
But today is very different.
He stops you and asks you what your name is.
You reply and he tells you his and so on.
Within 30 minutes of talking you are delighted he took the time out of his day to notice you
But in the back of your mind your asking yourself
“Why now? We’ve been going to the same school for almost 3 years?”
And soon he becomes Stranger # 3.
It’s funny how familiar the time is,
familiar the place;
And yet your starting to feel the familiar shame.
You know what they all have come to you for.
They know your name,
They know your face,
But they don't know you, they must be crazy.
You want to yell and scream to each and every one of them:
“Didn't I tell you what all the rest have done?
They were just like you, they have all tried too.
You're not the only one.”
But you would waste your breath because you meet them every day…
-Stranger, inspired by