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Faceless, nameless people.
Anonymous surfers of the net.
Like unseen butterflies flitting from site to site,
Gathering information nectar,
Collecting idea's,
Browsing the work of others,
Reading, viewing, scanning, clicking,
Enjoying the sites that adorn the internet
Like flowers in a global garden.

But who are they,
These faceless, nameless people?
Silent, invisible stalkers of the net.
We know they are men, women and children.
We know they have families,
We know some work and some do not,
Some are happy and some are not,
Some are learning and others know it all,
Some are old and some are older still,
Some are honest, some are crooked,
Some are clever, some are artistic,
Some work hard, some are lazy,
Some care, some care less.

These are the same faceless, nameless people we meet in a crowd.
Jostling their way through the Shopping Centre,
Shoulder-to-shoulder on the terraces of the football ground,
Unspeaking as they bustle their way to work,
Hundreds of people,
Thousands of people,
Millions of people.
Never stopping to speak,
No time to say "Hi"
People we touch as we jostle,
But that we don't touch in any way that matters.
People who don't know we are there.

But it takes just one of those faceless, nameless people to pause,
To take a breath,
To stand still long enough ...

To say "Hi ... how ya doing?",
And it's as if the whole world knows you're there.
What joy, to be no longer invisible,
To share a brief moment,
A fleeting exchange that takes a few seconds,
But lingers on for so much longer.
To offer a smile and receive one back,
To speak and be spoken to,
To reach out a hand and to have it held,
To care, and for someone to care that you cared,

Let us not remain Faceless, nameless people,
Anonymous surfers of the net.

Dedicated to someone who chose not to remain a faceless, nameless person.