they do not see me at all,

as I walk through these desecrated avenues,

of soul-deadening frenzy,

I see them all rushing past me,

and no matter how hard I try to holler and to call,

they do not see me at all.

it seems at times, that invisible am I,

for when I reach out, and shriek out, and when on my knees I crawl,

they rush past me,

for they do not see me at all.

I have tried to raise their ire, I have taunted and goaded them, till exhausted and fatigued, to the cold damp ground I fall,

still they rush past me,

for they do not see me at all.

I stand mutely then and wave my hands all around while scribbling verses in my unintelligible scrawl,

and yet they rush past me,

for they do not see me at all.

they rush past me, knocking me over without ever looking back,

and then trampling over my fallen form, they look past my limp crumpled shadow, as they whine on in their monotonous drawl,

for they do not see me at all.

and when at last I see them look my way, and as a flicker of recognition crosses their faces,

I wish to crawl back into my nothingness,

where they cannot see me at all … … …