The Spectator
The bustling street’s attention-garnering hum drifts upward
Tired eyes peer from an oft-shuttered window
Momentarily intrigued
Watching the world’s dreams unfold
A long-forgotten pursuit
Time blurring into weeks
Months
Then years
She’d lost track a lifetime ago
Oh there was a period
When temptation’s tantalizing hand reached out
Beckoning her to play
But expectations consumed
Caving to the status quo
Earned her the praise of family and friends
Where were these folks now??
A risk-free existence
Carried a cumulative price tag
Missed opportunities
Memories never made
Forfeited youth
And the reverberating regret of being a mere spectator
Alone and shocked by the breadth of her heart’s vacancy
LUGGAGE Lady 
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