Down The Street Poem by Clare Walsh

Staring at strangers down the street
Instead of looking at your boring little feet
Blank expressions
This is what I question
The blank look in their eyes
What is appealing to look at is the sky
Frowns crease their foreheads
It seems they're made out of lead
Strangers who are always on the move
They have nothing to prove
Would it kill them to put a smile on their dial
Snarling and scowling
Gossiping, always wanting to know everything little detail
Just so they would have someone to talk to
Don't they have something better to talk about
Instead of those pretentious little chats
Acting like spoilt little brats
Is it so hard to give someone a compliment
The truth is we've become a self absorbed town
Where all we seem to do is frown