You might’ve seen them in passing and never took a second look, black hood with a black pants, face hidden behind a book,

Their presence unassuming, their aura hard to read, the nomadic mystery travelers never stay longer than they need,

The silent motel guests, never noticed coming or going, empty room the next day without anyone knowing,

They always travel light, just the clothes left on their back, everything they need, could fit in a small backpack,

The John Doe’s on the tables, shrouded in mysteries and fables, you could try to track ones movements, but I doubt that you’d be able.