Alienation - 1995ish

He sits, They move, He speaks, They go on in their conversations ignoring his petition, Signed by countless hands of alienation personified In the hands of Old Man friendship; The darkness illuminated by a dim candle of Truth That is snuffed time and time again by noses looking too high To see him, standing alone. He is every man or woman At some time or another; Searching for affirmation In accolades that never could nor would Come from a world that doesn't care Nor sees its own hand stabbing at the hearts of children Who just want to feel love. The piper of this world plays his fife And finds many who follow in blind obedience To where they know not and care not and would rather not know. And he sits She sits And waits until someone says, "Hello."