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On April 6, 2024 By SerrocIn poetry, The search within

Tired, they sit,
invisible to the world.
"We'll just rest our eyes"
they say, and 
smile remembering
someone else say those
words, even
though their eyes 
see only
shadowed blurs
these days and 
are not as tired 
as the body.
And so they sit,
slump,
napping it would seem.

Nearly all who pass,
see only litter
along the
sidewalk;
see only the old and
spilling seams,
the taint of 
age and lack
of use.

Only the smallest 
of children
can see them,
as they are, 
inside.
Still whole and glowing
with joy.
Still longing to love
and be loved.