The Moth and the Candle

We each send signals to the observer
To those who watch the actions and interactions
Of the teeming multitudes, the people of this earth
Bowed heads, furrowed brows, physical proximity
Lowered voices, thin drawn lips and scowls of fearsome intensity
All tell you something about the people you see
That is, of course, not to say that you know them
You don’t in any simple sense at all
And for the most part to them you a merely a face in the crowd

But bear with your observations for a brief moment
Will these interpreted signals tell you something of importance?
With no friends around do they care what you see?
As they will never see you again
And even if they do, will that mean something to them?
But the act of observation both changes the observed
And the observer, sometimes without either noticing
We are what we see of ourselves and of others