A myriad of people I see.
I lay my eyes upon their deep agony.
A father rejoins broken slippers for his pedestrian tyke.
A couple shops for clothes on the roadside.
A mother holds her daughter and subjected to a terrible cold.
The rickshaw puller shouts for them to move away.
He has his own place to be and children to transport.
They all have their destinations and
sights they need to see.
The clothing they need to wear
and lifestyles they wish to be.
It’s the life they got.
It’s not sure if they wanted it.
With the gaze of an outer observer
I see,
and be unable to read
their thoughts and dreams.
I long to know
the places they are in
and the places they want to be.