View From Above

Look at all the little people Insignificant lost souls Hurrying, scurrying below Like some fast-forward picture show. Always moving rarely balking And when walking hardly talking Tiny animated shadows Puny dots moving to and fro. If they were me where I now stand The whole of them would understand They’re human lemmings on the run Behind their leaders one by one. From high above this bizarre scene I see folly in their routine.