I knew an old lady who lived down the street, with wrinkled skin and toughened feet.
I knew her cat, the old and wise, who whispered secrets late at night.
I knew the man who lived next door, who wore a nice suit, but always was poor.
I knew his young daughter, hair shaved and dyed, and the way he looked down at her, brimming with pride.
I knew the new couple who moved there in spring, their beards nicely shaved and their penchant to sing.
I knew of the carpenter, gentle and bright, whose dancing amazed us, her buildings a sight.
I knew the small child, often left on his own, who dreamed of exploring the worlds lesser known.
I knew his young parents, both busy and wared, each trying their hardest to show that they cared.
I knew all these people, etched into my heart, but they never knew me, born of shadows and dark.
I wished just to speak, oh it brought me to tears, now the people have changed, all lost to the years.
People asked how they left, they never felt pain, on their faces were smiles, as their fire met my rain.