Poem: Observer

Observer

Many things I notice,
many details
that I think about,
wonder at.  I want
to make it better,
can see ways
to shift this or that
which I think
are improvements,
but it is not mine
to make better,
is not mine at all.
I am simply here,
an outsider
who should not say.
I should observe
and not speak at all.
I think that is a part
of the intention.
I do not know.
The details, though,
I can notice them
and think it through,
cannot help that.
It is the way my mind is,
maybe it is trained
or it may be something else.
I think it is learnt
but it is still part of me, now,
part of who I am now.
I cannot change it,
do not think I want to.
I only wish
I felt it had purpose.

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