Sitting And Watching Poem by Susan Basile

Sometimes I sit
and stare out my window.
I watch hundreds of people.
I see them walking, running, driving,
talking, crying laughing, smoking.
I see them all doing their own thing.

I then wonder to myself,
has anyone ever watched me?
What did they think I was?
Did they see me walking,
talking, fighting, or
maybe crying?
Or did they see me screaming,
running, even shaking?

I wonder what they thought?
Did they think I was crazy or sane?
Did they think I was nice and well-rounded?
Did they see me as happy or depressed?