The Observer
I see nothing.
I know nothing.
I am the observer, seated in the background
Forever meant to stay there.
What's this? A word, you speak
To me and I listen. But speak?
Nay. It's not my job.
I see nothing.
I know nothing.
I am the observer.
You speak again, now oft a conversation
We have. And yet you do not look
To me as if for answer. Simply for an ear.
A shoulder to cry on. Help?
Nay, it's not my job as the observer.
We are friends now, you and I.
We walk and we talk and I am allowed
Response in your direction.
Time goes on and things progress.
I am speaking first this time.
And you have no answer.
This truth behold, for I have no answer
But more questions.
But now things revert, and I am
Once again on the outside.
Once again in the background.
Nay, not 'once again,' for it has always been.
I will always be
The observer.