Lost and found

I'm not lost, but I've lost something.

So I search this barren place,

from its faded floors

to its jaded ceilings,

at dusk and dawn each day,

but never do I find it,

because nobody ever looks up.

Nobody dares.

There's an anxious desperation in the air

as blurred silhouettes pass by

praying they aren't noticed

for they're far too busy to be captured

in the gaze of another.

They march so purposefully

with their heads down

and their phones up

as if to have found

divine inspiration

in the way their screens fluoresce.

But it's a mere façade

- a disguise to go unnoticed.

For it's obvious none of them have it.

They're not lost, but they've lost something.

I can see it in their motions;

heavy and without passion.

When did it become so rare

to be anything other than this?

And I cannot help but wonder

if one were to fall upon the tracks

would they even notice?

And if they did, would they care?

And if they cared, would it be

because they felt something for a stranger

or because it inconvenienced them?

I'm not convinced anyone could answer with certainty

and so we flow by one another

entirely alone

and tied to our destinations

like schools of fish

reeled into a nine-to-five

that picks the joy from our bones.

We’re not drowning yet,

but we’re panicked by the pretence of it,

drifting by with outward purpose and inward misery.

We're too afraid to stop,

too afraid to look,

as though the sharks that swim among us

could snap us up at any moment,

and maybe there are sharks

from whom we hide ourselves

but that safeguard comes at a cost

for people like us

who are not lost, but have lost something.

It's rare but it shouldn't be

and I always thought that it couldn't be

found, yet I see it on your face right now

as you appear suddenly before me

and I realise, as our bodies float

across that space between two strangers,

you've gifted it to me

or at least a part of it

and I see it ever so boldly

as your lips upturn,

your cheeks are set aglow

and that dazzling wave of warmth

supplements my heart

while ringing through the walls

of this forsaken place

and I feel it spread across my face too

like yours did

in all its divinity.

It's wonderfully infectious,

and in this moment,

even the screeching of the trains

is music to my ears.

Finally, I've found it.

Then just like that, you're gone.

Evaporated into the crowd,

dragged back to the surface,

not pausing another second

to bask in the moment,

Yet that's all it took

to save me.

You've returned that precious thing I'd lost

and I know it comes with a duty

but I'll repay the debt I owe.

I'll pass it to a stranger

when I see that they've misplaced

that precious little rarity.

I'll lend it to the lonely ones

who are drowning amongst the crowd

and to the weathered ones

with concrete shoes and untamed hair

that are beckoned by the train line

because I know they're not lost, but they've lost something.

So in the briefest of moments,

I'll let them borrow mine

until they find

another reason to smile.