While watching,
A brief desire to join,
Is doused by internal doubt,
The genuine laughter,
Of shared experience,
A kind in which I cannot partake,
I am an observer,
The saddest life of all.

While watching,
A thought strikes me,
Are they observers too?
How would I know,
That their shared experience,
Does not belong to them?
observing an observer,
But am I alone?

While watching,
A conclusion forms,
Somebody must be unique,
it's hard to explain,
somebody’s lived their stories,
maybe them but not me,
I am but an observer,
And I have nothing at all.

while watching,
I realise that life,
is naught but a recital,
of things I do not know,
so while I listen to their stories,
I see but I don't feel,
I'm just an observer,
my world isn't real.

While watching,
My life before my eyes,
I see that I’m mistaken,
I just couldn’t see,
That I was blind to the experience,
That life was to me,
I’m no longer the observer,
realisation came after the fall.