And We’re On Our Way

I looked at you

as long as I could 

as you walked by.

You didn’t want to be seen,

tried to be invisible,

but my eyes see you.

I know you think you’re perfect

and have no pain, and my eyes

have no right to see.

Note: poem worked hard to achieve

my high standard of mediocrity.

Maybe it would be better if I didn’t write:

just sit there and try to look pretty.