We all look, but how many really see? Who notices the leaf that's caught in the tangles of grass? Who sees the promise in something damaged and broken? Who sees the mask one wears to cover pain? I watch, I observe, and I see. but do you? That woman down the street masks alcohol with perfume, that child playing outside is weary about bumping a bruise. That cat sniffs around looking for a meal. And here I sit, looking for a way to avoid what I see when I look at myself. My reflection. Am I there? Does anyone see me?