I am the front of the shop, looking at all other outlets on the street.
Never able to see inside, wave of concrete haults my path.
Some will hold happy customers,
buying, selling, money and joy.
Some will hold onto whatever possible,
bargain bins and desperate gymics .
But I’ll never know who.
Reality cannot shine honesty, only an inverse look at myself can
Show truth, so assuming is pointless.
And yet so many still bend over, trying to see some more, futile addiction,
our sole common denominator.
Yes, I am a shop stuck at this viewing point, I peer no more
Facades are all I see