Lamentation

I saw an old lady sitting alone
On a dusty park bench today;
She was staring at the pigeons -
Silent, with nothing to say.

Or perhaps she did have something to say,
But no-one to say it to.

I saw a book abandoned
In the corner of a library last week;
But I suppose there are new books to read,
And new adventures to seek.

But what about that one?
Was that one not important too?

I went alone to the cinema
To see a movie some months ago;
But I was the only one in the theatre,
Bathed in a solitary glow.

No-one else was interested in that movie,
Or what its actors had to say.

I wandered through a cemetery once
And gazed at every grey, dull headstone –
At the half-faded names of the half-forgotten dead –
Lives now nothing but rotting bone.

Who prays for those people now?
Once we die do we cease to matter?

And today I watched a boy
Enter a classroom alone;
He had no friends around him,
Only shadows to bemoan.

It made me realise that I don't want to be that boy,
The same way as I never
Want to be nothing but a name on a gravestone.
And I don't want to be an unseen movie,
Or a book that's left alone.
I don't want to be that old lady,
Sitting on a park bench
With nothing to say.

I think that the things that make us feel sad
Are the very things we're afraid we will become.