I like people watching.
If you stop amidst the chaos of activity, your eyes observe.
Some run, some walk, others chat away on phones.
No one seems to register the people beside them, or in front
They are trapped inside their own bubble.
But watchers get to see.
The young are restless; moving as if it's their last time
The elderly are patient; ironically portraying that they have all the time in the world.
We rush, but where to?
To the job that dissatisfies with no raise, to school that takes hold of our daily time?
Why the rush?
Why not slow down like the elderly,
Take it in?
Maybe you'll smell the blooming flowers - breathe the fresh, crisp air.
Maybe you'll be engulfed by city sounds.
Adventure lies with every step you take.
Does no one want to make every step count?
How did we become oblivious to the little adventures, ones that don't need planes or beaches or wealth?
We become obsessed with getting bigger and more, but it's the little unaccounted things that light us up.
Like the puppy that chased its tail, or the man that slipped and caught himself in time.
I people watch, and I observe.
Humans are funny.
They need to be constantly reminded of what makes them happy, or else they will not notice these little things.
Faces pass by in blurs, all staring straight ahead in the direction they're going.
When did we stop looking around?
YOU ARE READING
People Watching
PoetryThis is a short free verse poem; just something that I wrote whilst sitting in class. Enjoy! :)
