I am but a pair of eyes,

gazing down on the world.

Ignoring the pain-filled cries,

of the things left untold.

-

Memories mash and mow

down on those, whom I observe.

Reapers reap what other's sow,

robbing them of all they deserve.

-

A hateful shout rattles up a wall,

killing the chatter, hushing all.

Not one comforting hand extends,

offering to help make the amends.

-

I can only sit and stare,

a solemnly raging taciturn.

I cannot say how much I care,

for against me they would turn.

-

We have all become strangers;

the distance is a finely honed knife.

So I sit along-side silent observers,

drawing the line between our strife.

-

So I watch another person stall,

afraid to help, what might befall.

Meanwhile everyone pretends,

to be there for another, just like friends.

-

When really all we can do

is sit and observe.

-

Reaching out is forbidden.