From Perspective

Through an open window I see,

The beautiful thing far away from me.

A man following a girl into an alley,

Her walking back out dragging his dead body.

Small children sitting dirty and beaten,

Jump from hiding chasing wealthy people so that they may start eating.

Dying flowers in cracks on the sidewalk,

Just tall enough to trip hurrying people as they walk.

Me I'm stuck looking out the window,

Stuck in a picture frame I bare witness to the scenes below.