The speaker begins as a quiet observer, studying people so closely that they can guess what each person will do next. There's a note of superiority in this. The speaker scoffs, finding everyone "all just the same" and predictable. The title, "HOOMANS", adds to that tone, since it sounds like a mocking, slightly detached way of talking about humankind.
Then the poem turns. The speaker admits to envying the very trait they were mocking: being predictable, and therefore being understood. The last line explains why the speaker can't have this. Someone who doesn't know their own next move can't be predicted by anyone else. What looked like superiority starts to sound like loneliness and self-doubt.
The mood shifts from cool and amused to wistful and uncertain. The short, plain lines make the confession feel honest rather than dramatic. The speaker watches others from a distance, and the poem suggests that distance may exist because they feel like a mystery even to themselves.