Today,
I realized
That the nicest people,
Aren't the ones who've gotten the most hurt,
The nicest people
Are the humble ones
The ones that don't speak much,
yet spread love
with their kind words.
The nicest people aren't your family
The nicest people are strangers,
Because despite not knowing you,
Where you come from,
Or where you're going,
They smile at you
and (sometimes) tell you kind words
Without knowing
Whether you deserve them or not.
The kindest people
Are the wayfaring strangers
The ones you know nothing of
The ones you'll never know of
Those are the kindest people
And despite you wish you knew them more,
You really don't
Because you'll get to know
The real them
And it's better
To know nothing of someone
And see their pretty side
Rather their crude, ugly side
Because that's when you wish
They were still nothing more than
Wayfaring strangers
Passing by.
