Out the window

I brush the hair out of my face and walks to the wall.
I look out the window and what do I see?
People in the streets walking, running, chasing, fleeing.
I do not know these people but it's easy to see....
Pain and suffering in their faces.
Each person has his or her own history.
And with it follows sorrow, hatred, pain...
I watch them, watch them for some time.
One without legs, one getting beaten, and a group just playing gasta.
Humanity has become this way...
Uncaring at the most.
I walk away again and sit down...
Shaking my head...
And returns to the safeness of my hair.