they go shuffling by
heads down
gazes locked on the ground
some even wear a frown,
as they go shuffling by.
rain or shine
they trudge through the daily grind
just like me and mine,
they go shuffling by.
plugged in
turned on
and copping out,
they go shuffling by.
this mental enslavement
to lines of pavement
leaves me wondering
why?
why do they go shuffling by?
not a glance at the sky,
or a friendly passerby
who might stop to say,
"HI."
while they go shuffling by.