Watching people

The sound of the bell continues
A look down shows a shaking hand
the face smiles at the people going in and out
Is it possible to wist each a good day?

The day is filled with busyness
The mind wonders if the whole city has passed by
So many faces seem familiar
Perhaps from a former life

Do the dead ever walk in the flesh?
Do people truly look that alike?
So often a moment of recognition comes
followed by memory of a funeral

As the day moves forward as the mind fills with such thoughts
Tiredness makes the thoughts run together
With time they become incomprehensible
Being reduced to a ball of pain behind the right eye

They eyes see the traffic suddenly stop,
waiting for a someone who will not move….
time passes, a place opens,
the car parks and all flows as normal…

Again and again the play repeats itself
Strangely it is for the same place
Counting spaces is possible
Others are open, less than 50 paces away

The heart wonders at such claims
The willingness to make everyone wait
The willingness to wait instead of walk
Because the word “mine” is so very powerful

Smiling is more difficult when the world is angry
The pain grows instead of diminishes
Yet the smile does not leave the face
Sometimes, a man’s function is joyful kindness

The smile continues
Behind the smile a prayer for strength
The day turns into night
The body wants nothing more than sleep

Sleep comes quickly, without preparation
The morning also comes quickly
Another day, the same as the last one
Smiling, and watching people

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