Maby a Dream

She walks along, In silent daze, Over hearing sounds of gray. But hear along this silent path, She watches droplets hit his hat. Yet hat is not nor man right there, No tall coat and short dark hair. Was he a dream? Did he exist? The small thoughts grew, Doubtful and new, Of who’s, How’s, along with Why’s, About him, his hat, and Questions of lies. Imagination, Conjecture, what a strange thing! That fills the gaps the of empty hopes and dreams. A single thing unknown to man, Where impossibilities unstoppable and grand, Grow beyond what we can hold, Yet our heads consume it all. So then if I am so alone, Is this man truly unknown? Someone yet know one that does not exist? Or am I over thinking this?