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SYNCHRONI-CITY
His eyes were interstellar, -
A glint beyond our setting sun.
His ragedy, dirt-woven clothes
Fluttered in the wind like a
Tattered American flag.
He paced aimlessly, unseeing
Any final destination.
With each step, his limp
Would sway his aged body
To the music that I listened to.
It was an astounding moment
Of obvious synchronicity that
I was the only one to notice.
An event of his own life that
He will never remember, yet
By these thoughts, I will.
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"It's not that I don't understand, it's that I don't care"
- Homer Simpson
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