Her Flock

I'm the watcher,
what goes on below
is either serene or chaotic
and both in full throw

I watch on a hilltop,
nobody notices
not even my flock.

Some call me the shepherd
that guides them somewhere
where the grass is greener on the other side
With my stick and compassion I shall guide.

Others call me the Philospher
the most trivial questions of the world
are discussed and fleshed out
the questions that have some meaning without a doubt.

I'm Galileo Galillei,
with my compass and scope
I shall see far and wide
the troubles that they may have to cope
with whilst I draw a path for a safe ride.

But I plainly think of myself as the watcher,
I look down and observe, analyze and confide
in myself as peoples inner turmoil will rise.
My flock all have their secrets which they wish to hide,
silent arguments, closed doors, shed tears.
I watch them and yet I watch I can do nothing
Nothing is not helping.

But yet I watch
as regrets, resent and repressed emotions
implode and explode like a firecracker
every shout and yell is in motion
and I feel helpless, weighed down, guttered.
Knowing that though it is not uttered.
No one is truly happy
and everyone has their problems
that once fixed, life shall be restored
back to the green fields
where happiness can then blossom.

It all started with do you remember...