I watched you in your tragic beauty walk beneath my window. Eyes aimed high, but unfocused. You never noticed me.

You always wore the same dress; always bore the same
expression: "It's a loveless world so what's the point of looking? Let it be ..." 

I considered throwing roses - thought I'd maybe wave a flag. Had to try and force some small connection - but, there's a snag. 

It's my confession that I watch you in
my tragic isolation. In my fear. That's the way it's been
for years. That's the way it will always be.