We do have a choice to make it work,

or maybe not,

some of us choose to struggle, its how we live,

how we like to believe we are sort of making it.

while others seem to get it,

with their brief case tucked nicely under their umbrella,

carrying a laptop that defines their lives.

at least for the moment.

What happens when the rains come,

the torrents of life-changing currents.

What happens when the music no longer

speaks to the words that suggested last week,

was only a memory, and today, we could still be the same.

What happens when you looked in the eye in high school,

and she laughed instead of ever understanding why.

I remember sitting on the corner, well after midnight,

cars would stream by, and I kept waiting for you,

hoping the next set of lights might be you,

and then the light just changed and everyone continued,

left the man on the park bench under the street light,

never really hidden away always exposed.

Whatever happened to that guy that was just a stranger,

we drove right by and four or five of us noticed,

but only one took the time to wonder further.