34. Do I know you?

I have seen many people here that look like people I know. Megan and I will be walking down the street and one of us will say, "Oh look, there's a Mike." Or a Steve. Or a Laurence.

See? There you are. It's funny how, in pictures, we don't look like
 we think we do to ourselves. Wait. Or is that voices? 

I'm trying a Petrarchan sonnet. I don't know that I like this style. Maybe it's just that I'm more familiar with Shakespearean, maybe I don't like how the pattern for the last sestet has several variations and I want good strong rules.

When walking in this town I see my friends;

familiar faces staring out from strangers.

I lose the cultural taboos and dangers

and give these unknown people friendly grins.

Perhaps, to reincarnate, Time's cloth rends

and one soul's apt to shine from different mangers.

Without Bloodline, they're yet alike as Rangers

like Dunedain related (you know, Tolkien?).

Regardless, such familiarity's not done;

Restraint is part of France's social waltz.

“What's up?” is more than lame; folk think it rude.

But when I see friends' faces, it's the Sun

and seeing them, although I know it's false,

just makes me smile, no matter that it's crude.

And these guys are just creepy. Cool, but creepy: