The watcher is watched

A quick poem exploring my tendency to over analyse everything, rather than watch things unfold.

Iwatch myself

watch myself
watching their dance,
my action is actioned
by panel and plan.

Significant thought
to trivial task, 
I find myself missing
that which I've hatched.

Impromptu I can do, 
in scrutinies stare,
replayed ad infinitum
pretend I don't care.

When waiting has waited
and I dare to break free,
will the watcher be waiting
or will I be free?