Isn't it a Pity (unfinished/wrkng title)

Isn’t it a pity? Isn’t it a shame?
How we break each other’s hearts and
cause each other pain?
Isn’t it a pity? Isn’t it a shame?
We tear each other apart and
call each other names.

I wish for understanding.
I have watched these people pass
my section day-after-day as I
strum these strings note-upon-
note but they don’t get it.
The cries of melancholic joy reverbs
from the base of my instrument - reaching
out for any pair of ears who’d
at least take a second to listen.
But… no…. No one seems interested, I
shall continue tomorrow…

Isn’t it a pity? Isn’t it a shame?
Day-after-day, we stagnate with pain.

I do not remember - I mean, I lost
track of the months since I
started here. Sometimes, it feels
like I’ve been wailing a single
solid symphony - other moments.
I question if it’s even me
plucking these strings.
It reminds me of those moments we
used to share - my love - and ever
since, I attempt to replicate that energy
on this corner… and now… there
is someone who felt it, I
am sure. There was a hint of curiosity
when he approached - he walked over people
and stopped to listen to the
melodies from my fingers. We linked
our eyes and I knew that today
would be my first direct interaction
since you, Sophia.

Isn’t it a pity? Isn’t it a shame?
I serenaded you, even to this day.
Isn’t it a pity? Isn’t it a shame?
I cry out to you, because you went away.

Who could have known about the
people one would meet on the streets.
This one, Sophia, he stood and watched
me for an hour - and said nothing. He
simply nod his head and left. I was… intrigued.
His silence defeaned the excess and
his face betrayed neither emotions nor
intentions. His eyes, my love, everything
was said in those hazel eyes of his. They
introduced the sort of quiet joy and
hidden sorrow I thought only belonged
in my morning reflections. He
was burdened, Sophia,
of that I am sure. This is the
look of someone approaching
a crossroad and yet the map
he possesses has grown foreign to
him. When he left, I hesitated
but for a half-second. I missed
half of a note but adjusted -
quickly - changing the direction
of my sovereign sadness towards
his back. We connected - the shock
shivered down his spine and I can
almost taste his reconsideration. Alas,
our half-second faded when
a little child tossing coins into my
Hat, distracting me long enough
for him to vanish.

Is there meaning in this, my
rose? Am I to be content with
this moment? Would it be selfish
of me to bother him next
time? Is there a next time?
(unfinished)