I often wonder looking at a friend
If on the inside they are just like me
If when they laugh the same emotions pass
If when they lie the shame seems not to last

I wonder at the men below my seat
And ponder if they see me as a man
Or if - as we sedately stroll the lanes
They see some part of "bus" and no human

I wonder if, when looking at a tree,
Another's green is really pink to me
And if that's really so, we could in fact
All like the same hue, but name it different.

I often wonder looking at a man,
If his worries and his cares will come to me
For I am but a child of little years
Full of my own disparate hopes and fears