You'll know him when you see him.
He'll be the shattered man, the one with the empty eyes.
He'll stare far beyond the edge of tomorrow
While gazing at the past, the haunting, unrelenting past.
His speech, if he speaks, will be soft and distant,
For he is not truly with you; he isn't even there.
Inside the husk, he is broken, destroyed, and undone.
He is the old man who lives alone.
He is the young man crossing the street at night.
She is the woman getting on the bus.
She is the child in the stairwell.
When you see him, nod your head, or tip your hat,
Then think. Just think about him.
That's all we ever ask.