Do You Remember?

Oh yes, I remember that child. The one
with the big brown eyes and that lost look
that echoed from those orbs, a kind of vacancy
like someone in search of an elusive goal.
Melancholy throbbed from within that child.
I know, I know her intimately. I was that child.
The one who wandered the schoolyard alone
and friendless. In her mind there was another
child, a child like her. She knew he was there
she just had to find him. Or he her. She was
not a good student. Teachers seemed to ignore
her presence. She found them cold, not the
least bit interested but in their rote demands.
And she failed them all. It was books she
craved. The books she read were too advanced
for a child, but no matter. What she failed to
completely understand something within
reasoned her into the role of teacher and she
taught herself to understand. She became an
avid collector of words. That was her unending
consolation. Before too many more years of
aloof contemplation passed she did find him.
Her counterpart in loneliness and as library
fixated as she. They shared long silent walks
comfortably, no longer lonely and as time went
on no longer children. If there were any notable
differences, physiognomic or psychological
they absented themselves and they were one.