good, good friends;
who i know everything about;
who know nothing about me;
and with these friends,
i’m always happy to be,
just sitting back
watching their every move,
listening to their every word,
slightly detached,
as if they’re far away,
separated by a pane of glass,
the windows that i watch them through.

and sometimes i talk;
or at times i shout;
i’ve even whispered,
but they never seem to hear,
never seem to change;
just keep going their own way,
doing their own thing,
doing what they do,
oblivious of me,
oblivious of my presence,
oblivious of my love.
but still i watch;
but still i will watch,
until they learn to love me.