The unknown

All I need are those people on the streets

They stand and wait

But wait for what?

What are you waiting for?

What am I waiting for?

I don’t have a reason to sit and stare

Other than my impeccable rudeness

Those people on the streets, they are strangers to you and I

Until you ask a simple question

How are you?

And they return with a simple answer

Good

Sometimes they might even return your unethical curiosity

And you?

But you expect that

Fine

To us these conversations seem normal

To not have these conversations is weird

To just stand there and not communicate with a total stranger

Is a little awkward

You would think not, right?

That to keep to yourself is normal

After all this person is not affecting you

Nor you this person

What would life be without those unknown to us?

Would society change?

Would its beauty fade?

Would the world be quite as content with no mystery of the person seated right beside you?