I love this poem, so much in such a few words, so effective. I often feel that way, too, but on the other hand I wonder if I am not sometimes too insensitive as well, not because I don't care (God knows how much I do), but because I'm too shy and too unsure to react to what might only be a misinterpretation of mine, reading too much into things etc., or I'm afraid of getting on the other person's nerves because they would rather be left alone. It's so difficult to tell sometimes, and my heart is aching so much because of the mistakes I've made in that respect. (Am I wandering off the point of literary criticism here? Sorry.) For a counterpart, or rather the complete opposite of this, have a look at my "Not Unheard" if you want, because it might tell you that people often do care, more than one might think ...

Yeah, it's only *after* the blood, angst, depression and attempted suicide that they get it isn't it? Kinda sad that no one cares when people want to live but as soon as they want to die then its big news. Stupid really, caring in the first place could save so much trouble. I believe no one is too busy to give a damn, the problem is the rest of the world disagrees with me.

:D nice and simple: and I like it!