In the land of Schrödinger's cat, where uncertainty reigns,
A curious observer peeked, and altered the game's stains.
With every glance, a reality was spun,
A metaphor for life, where our gaze is never done.

We observe, we judge, we shape, we mold,
The importance of things, like clay in a potter's hold.
A raise of an eyebrow, a tilt of the head,
Can turn the mundane into a drama, or a crisis into a thread.

Our gaze is a scalpel, cutting through the noise,
Exposing the truth, or creating a joyful voice.
It's a double-edged sword, that can heal or can harm,
A reflection of our power, to shape the alarm.

So let us observe, with care and with might,
For in our gaze, lies the power, to shape the light.