From Above
watching people from above
they look like miniature figures
with batteries on the inside
so that they walk in circles
always restless
running from here to there
and back again
no difference between start
and end point
with haste in their eyes
and doubts in their smiles
with names they didn’t choose
and talents they let rot away
with feelings concealed
behind a curtain of insecurity
and then in the middle of this crowd
of blurred and moving bodies
there is this one person
who looks out of place
who has no definite destination
who’s just passing time walking around
and she looks different than the rest
of the rushed people –
she looks happy.
– Maria
Maria was listening to her own thoughts while writing this poem.
