As the days pass me by like rush hour traffic,

I remain standing still,

Watching people come and go,

Seeing from afar there smiles and tears,

As I stand here, I wonder if somewhere, someone is watching me stand here?

A innocent bystander to this cruel world,

Watching it inflict it’s pain on these tortured souls,

As I stand watching this world go by,

I see the tears in her eyes,

I see the flowers in his hands,

I see old age catching up with the elderly,

And I see the youth self destructing,

I’m watching this world go by me,

And I bare witness to what these people are going through,

The glazed eyes of the women who keeps her eyes set on her destination,

Trying to avoid any suspicious looks from strangers like myself,

I see the young man who is dressed smartly, yet keeps fixing his attire, showing all the insecurities his clothes can’t hide,

In the corner,  I watch two children playing with one another, the optimum of innocence,

The closest thing to purity on this world,but for how long will it remain,

I look to my left and see a broken man, without a home or food in his mouth or money in his pocket, only a suspicious looking bottle,

Little does he know, he’s not any different from the women with the glazed eyes,

he may be drowning his sorrows, she may be hiding them,

It does not change the fact that what they are feeling is the same,

This world holds so much emotion, but we all try to stop and analyse it,

We all walking this disbelief that their pain is more important than yours,

They are mistaken, for it is what we feel that makes us remotely human,

It’s what makes all the lies, all the hurtful actions and all the wrong decisions normal,

We are all representations of our own failures,

Understanding that the stranger next to you in the bus, train, ATM line or restaurant are struggling with there very own existence,

We are all but finely painted fakes of our original paintings. Trying to hide the flaws and present a pretty picture of perfection which does not exist.