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Watching Strangers, Watching Me

Wondering what people think of me
Pondering what goes through their minds
When they turn and look at me
Their expressions of all ilk and kinds

Most likely the same as I wonder of them
Do they care if they’re way too fat
Are they proud that they’re appealingly slim
Or do they even wonder about that

Do they wonder if I’m out of work
If I’m just barely managing to eke by
Do they wonder if… as they oft do themselves
If kind words and deeds, brings a tear to my eye

Do they wonder why I always carry a book
Do they ever wonder what I write in my pad
Are they perhaps comparing the way that I look
Are they wondering about the life I’ve had

Do they wonder why I’m always alone
Do they ponder the lines about my eyes
If I’ve earned each line… trying to atone
For misguided love…or mayhaps too many lies

Do they fabricate, for fun, as I oft do of them
histories of stranger’s lifes and times
Rich… exotic… bland…erotic
Stories of strangers, conjured in their minds

I wonder what people think of me
I wonder about that an awful lot
But do they actually think about me
I think most probably…not!

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