To know a bare little truth such as this
Took me years to see it for what it is.
That it is not what these hoary walls echo
Nor it is the rustling from the old trees;
Failed me even the Victorian roof direly,
For belonging was from the faces, now gone.
So I smiled at a stranger today to move on.
In a minute you do, in the next you don’t belong.
Stand wondering where the faces never spoken to are gone.