Strangers with Pizza boxes.
I hope you like this. Read, comment, enjoy, and smile! :)
If you look carefully
when walking on a busy street,
you’ll see rainbow kite strings around the neck
of every stranger.
Tales of broken reds,
ribbons of blue,
poems of brown eyes,
micro-tales of turquoise skies
and a thousand more colorful stories.
But only if you look carefully.
If you do not,
they’ll just be flesh and blood
and you’ll remain flesh and blood too.
Of course, eyes won’t do all the talking,
but do let them start
and then your lips can bring the stories to life.
That’s how the Pizza boy became my
he was just a man in red
with a beautiful smile.
I saw his eyes
and the wrinkled galaxies his smile caused.
I saw how his shirt was half-tucked in,
very similar to mine
and he had sports shoes on.
He told me his favorite sport
and I told him I wrote poetry.
Together, we gave football a human story.
The ball that was of no man
and no fields.
The ball that fell in love with the net.
Together, we laughed at the horrible story.
I guess you get the idea.
See, look, converse, connect.
Give me prompts in the comment section below and share if you liked this!