Extinct

Empathetic girl seeks sidewalk to understand,
footpath to traverse to the next.
There is no stopping movement of time,
or heart speeds, there is no catching up,
even when the beat stops.
But isn't it just movement, that brings us,
one lover to the next? Or isn't it?
Shoes not made of soles but a soul,
a soul that knows the feel of the concrete.
Spent a lifetime with the feet planted,
and never did they just take root.
Begged for selfish skies to send some rain.
But in the humid air, the feeling withers,
losing interest in finally being understood.
Dying is what you do, when the only things
that can fix you are withheld.