I never had somebody call me home
And rarely I am with someone not alone
So barely a touch will make me whole
If only somebody would take me home!
I frequently despise my awkward self
When I am lost and broken on an empty shelf
I’m often friend to darkness, into it I delve
Unless somebody finds my inner self!
You walk on by my pale empty prose
Dreams shatter leaving only flustered pose
While you pay no attention, so engrossed
Until I call for help with rhymes not prose!
I never had somebody take my hand
While I prowl the underbelly of this wasteland
I never had somebody walk along, till end
I long to reach and find a waiting hand!
Can you be someone to somebody else?
Embrace their sorrow, offer more for less
And offer love, a touch, caress?
Can you be someone unlike me, I guess?
