Why sit at the side of the road
watching countless lives
(that could easily be touched),
pass us by without a word.

A word that could cheer.
A word that could raise.
A word that could touch.
A word that could save.

Save from fear of solitude
brought, perhaps, bought
with hope that the first
sunrise brings for all.

All together.
All for one.
All apart.
All alone.

Alone with dreams of what might be
in between what actually is.
Alone with doubt following about,
echoing footfalls of an error of choice.

Choice!  Is it really "our free choice",
our voice makes it seem real.
Free: to choose, to lose, to win, to fail, or to think
that leaving the curb could set you free.