In hidden heights, of window's sights
I've seen the people pass
Across the way a light shines on
A man paints, what simple ease
Two lights above, some people stand
No curtains mare their joy
Yet in between these lively homes
Empty is it's name
Not once did I yet see the sign
Of human life a flame
I'll wave at them and let them know
Watching is my name
Not a crime, or creepy act
No binoculars do I hold
And honored they should be
With lives so vivid and so riveting
That my attention, they have held
Enough to merit them a place
In writings to unfold