We’ve been acquainted many years, but you don’t know me.
We pass often, but you don’t know me.
My door stood open when others turned away, but you don’t know me.
In crisis and in need, help was always offered, but you don’t know me.
In your innocence you pass judgment on things for which you have no point of reference, so no, you don’t know me.
You mistake calm and centered, for coldness of emotion, you mistake concern for loss of individuality and self for mockery…No you don’t know me at all.
My heart lies heavy that people on the other side of the country…the other side of the world know more of me than those I can reach out and touch.
So we will live the play with polite smiles and scripted words and my heart will lie heavy that few wish to see beneath the surface because your eyes see our differences and not our similarities.
No. You don’t know me.