New York Stranger

The cab door closes, and the sounds are muffled.
Still audible, but saturated.
Colors blend together,
As Manhattan spins around me.
People pass by, their eyes seldom meet mine,
But inside them, I can see it.
The wonder.
The confusion.
The questions.
The pain.
And I am reminded,
"Not all who wander are lost."
I am not lost, as I wander through the crowded streets,
as I chase my pipe dreams through darkened corridors,
Under broken bridges,
Rummaging through piles of debris,
Only to hold on a moment longer.
And yet, in their eyes,
They look lost.
I want to tell them that I can find them.
That they don't have to live alone
In this never-ending city of dreams.
Instead, The cab door closes,
And the sound sinks away.