All you ever wanted
Is right in front of you
The whole world
Or just a man
Standing across the street
Too far out of reach
Because your feet have been stepped on
One too many times
But never did it cross your mind
That that man would walk over
To your side
For someone else
Standing right beside you
With arms wide open
LITTLE TALKS 
I must say, these words written here, they remind me of similar words I often hear others say. But sometimes, don’t you feel helpless that you can’t see what it is that others see, that which apparently stands before your very own eyes? Sometimes, I wonder whether that in itself is a weakness – the inability to see (and I don’t imply ingratitude or lack of appreciation) beyond the once inflicted injury (or more than once in some unfortunate cases). Or maybe, we’re not quite ready to accept or carry the overwhelming joy of that which stands before us – it’s hidden from view until we become completely humble. Yet, the outside world interprets that as an unwillingness to see, I beg to differ, some of us do long to see (even ache to do so) – just because we remain silent, does not imply we don’t feel the need to have someone waiting with their arms wide open. May I add, this someone doesn’t necessarily have to be a man/woman it’s form could be anything – inevitably it is that which we long for, that which we need (whatever it may be).
The beauty of poetry is the diversity of it, how so many different interpretations can be derived from a single poem.
As you said, “The inability to see … beyond the once inflicted injury (or more than once in some unfortunate cases). Or maybe, we’re not quite ready to accept or carry the overwhelming joy of that which stands before us.” If true, the latter is very sad. Moreover, I can relate to the former through people I have interacted with. Past experiences act as a veil that blinds us. However, when I wrote this, I invisioned the woman to be standing there across from the man. They had both been “stung” before. Yet, the woman was unwilling to try. And that is why the man showed his willingness by crossing the street, only to embrace a different woman who was willing to try. In a way, this is similar to the saying “the world is yours for the taking”. You can have whatever you want, as long as you make a move to make it yours.
Strangely, I somehow missed ‘for someone else’ in your poem, but having re-read it, of course there is truth in what you have said. What often puzzles me, is how to make the move to make it ours, what if the exact thing that we’re chasing was never meant to be ours for the taking? What if it belongs to someone else (but they both just don’t know it yet, time has not unveiled it for them to see)?
That’s just it, we don’t know. The only way we’ll know that something is meant for us or isn’t meant for us is we try. We have to give things a chance, instead of saying no and shooting down the idea at first glance. It’s not only time that reveals things, it’s interaction. But, perhaps they are both one and the same.
I like the concept of time and interaction being one and the same, I’ll probably contemplate over this for a while (I tend to do that quite a lot, contemplation that is). It has sparked another thought, what if time was our gift, our opportunity, time paved the path and has left us to utilise it, as if time itself is nudging us towards that interaction.
It’s also courage and strength that we require for interaction, to take that first step – and it would be so much more easier if one had some sort of an indication that the one we long to interact with was also seeking the same (just a hint even, is that too much to ask for?)
Time being a gift for us to utilize is an interesting thought.
As for the indication, in my case, I’ve given all the hints I can and they’e been of no use. I agree that a hint or two to show good intentions would a big help, I’ve just drawn the short straw on this.