The face of a stranger Haunts me, It’s my brother Looking distant, Drunk with regret, melancholy, sorrow Though we couldn’t know, What was behind The constant blindness, I wonder now... Why were you running? Now, the face of a stranger, Haunts me, It’s you, It’s the same distant sorrow Painted on your face Trying to forget, Etched in the lines of your features, In the tiny, wrinkles next to your Light, blue eyes. I don’t know why, Strangers' faces haunt me - So much, lately. I wish I could see your face, Ask you, why? But, I can’t. And, I never can. Maybe that’s what haunts me, occupies my thoughts, When faces of strangers Haunt me, It is their likeness, And, their foreignness, That remind me, I can’t ask. And, I never can.