The Obeserver Poem by Not Long Left

outside the nightly mist is fading,
the early bird is singing,
such a cheerful soul is he.
As the first rays of light,
seep through my dusty curtains,
the street begins to beat,
from the feet of the workers,
fresh and ready,
minds assured and steady,
moving like flocks of sheep,
to the cities abattoir.
let me join you,
in your search for purpose,
let me travel by your side,
sharing stories of the office,
smiling at the pretty brunette,
wet with perspiration.
but for now,
i remain an observer,
a silent stigma,
forgotten by everyone,
even the sun.