Our story; You forget, I remember.
A flash before my eyes, I see a figure in distress. Hair disheveled, clothes tattered, barefoot, she sat on the curb. Arms forming armor; protecting from the forces outside or maybe within. Eyes resounding; a hollow of loneliness, a weight of questions. Eyes asking for help from the fast-moving mass of robots around.
A flash before my eyes, I want to reach the tormented soul. I may not know how to ease your pain but I can say it is okay, I see you.
A flash before my eyes, I become part of the robots around.
For the many homeless people and addicts I see every day on streets.