I sit here, watching the faces walk past,
Some of them I recognise,
But so many I don't,
I imagine if I were one of them,
Walking past me,
Seeing me, like I see them.
I wonder some times if these simple passers by judge me,
If they ponder about me as I do about them,
The details of their lives,
Their families and friends,
And if they feel as lonely as I do,
Just another person,
Lost in the crowd.