The Watcher

An outsider sits on the fringe of the room.
He is secluded, detached and alone.
He sits there waiting for some day, some distant day, when he will join the crowd.
He sits there waiting, as life passes him by.

The outsider sits, observing the crowd.
He wonders how to join in.
He sits, waiting for the perfect moment, his time to shine,
Not realizing that by time that moment comes, it will already be too late.

The crowds shuffle back and forth, they change over time.
The outsider has long since accepted the life he lives.
The solitary life, the life of idle distraction.
For now, this is just the way life is.

So the outsider continues to watch the crowds, they change over time.
He sits, waiting for when he will seize the day.
The world around him is not as hard as he thinks.
But he sits there waiting, as life passes him by.


Until next time...