The Watcher (circa 1995)

She leads me down the street
And lets me watch the people passing
Lets me look into their eyes
As we walk on

I see glimpses of their worlds
Each immense beyond describing
I reach out but she pulls back
And we are gone

She bids me not to speak
For to do so would ensnare me
And drag me into their worlds
To lose the light

My mind wants to explode
With the weight of all the people
But she will not let it show
Our face is tight

So submitting I walk on
Leaving all the worlds behind me
Never knowing if just one
Would understand

And while facing straight ahead
I hope one will recognize me
And break through their own disguise
And take my hand

[Posted because it explores some of the same themes as my last post, and I’d forgotten I wrote this at all. The ending is different because I was young and still very much in the grip of this, rather than an adult looking back.]

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