I like to sit on the passenger's side
And stare out my window
Into the windows of the cars passing by.
A silent couple with a baby carrier in back.
Two tattoo-ridden college men screaming in black.
An old couple, we flew by, I nearly missed.
A man alone dressed for business.
Our windows are tinted to prevent it,
But if they could see through,
What would they think of me and of you?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment