View from above
Look at all the little people
Insignificant lost souls
Hurrying, scurrying below
Like some fast-forward picture show.
Always moving rarely balking
And when walking hardly talking
Tiny animated shadows
Puny dots moving to and fro.
If they were me where I now stand
The whole of them would understand
They’re human lemmings on the run
Behind their leaders one by one.
From high above this bizarre scene
I see folly in their routine.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Added by Poetry Lover
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