Poem/thoughts

Standing, waiting. People pass me by.
Some rush, some pause. They all move on. none really see.
But I'm yelling. I'm Waving. I'm calling out in the middle of a crowded room
Somehow, though, Ive never been so alone. Even here, noone sees me.

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Im speaking words already written. Rehearsed? The lines of play.
and I wonder, am I just a character, a part? I cant shake the feeling that Ive been here before.
That ive seen this before. That ive heard it before.
I know, already, how it ends. Can I change it? or do I just go through the motions?
Perhaps it is an act. Perhaps this is another performance.
No Matter,
I take the stage.