I stand perched on a wooden pole,

Looking down at the crowding port,

Looking up at the colorful sails,

Looking left to see bits of popcorn,

Looking right to find something new.

Looking at all the people and places I have been to,

Flying with the planes,

Eating all the food,

And I care dearly about all of that,

Even people...

But do they care,

Or even think about me?