Observer
i see a cart, a load of sand
i see a hardtop, over the rubber bands
a man puffing pride, straightens his tie
a man resting in sweats, unable to stand
Too hard to live, too soft to die
i watch them stare and look away
unable still, to battle my gaze
ragged to the bare but trouble is fair
looks at the gold time with eyes of rage
Never a stain, never a tear!
along comes a passer by
whistling a tune, lips dry
extends to both, each of his hand
curiosity stops blinking the eyes
of this Stranger in his own land
i see my self clinging to a tree
old it is, but i’ve failed to see
i find myself in a losing fight,
against my fragility facing me
with its strengh, in this woeful plight.
(11 votes, average: 4.82 out of 5)
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1,331 posts
345 authors
7,849 comments
September 10th, 2008 at 11:23 am
To be an observer - the hardest job, as there are so much injustice and unfairness in the world.
Awsiv, you have spilled it here well.
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September 16th, 2008 at 11:10 pm
“Time grabs you by the wrist;
directs you where to go.
So make the best of this test
and don’t ask why.
It’s not a question
but a lesson learned in time.
It’s something unpredictable
but in the end it’s right.”
-Time of Your Life(GreenDay)
There are times when you “sit back” and ponder about your life. You don’t feel like argueing or fighting, you just let things be the way they are. You observe, thousands of lives around you and pretend not to exist and be the observer…
Nice poem Biswa, keep on writing…
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September 21st, 2008 at 11:35 pm
“curiosity stops blinking the eyes”
What a line!!
Great poem man!!
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