Lonely is the old man
Who sits at the end of the bus
The newspaper hides his life
The current news is a relief
His children have left
Forgetting their past
They leave him behind
To clean up their crumbs

Lonely is boy in library
His glasses keep on falling
He has no friends, no joy
The carefree spirit has aged
With every taunting remark
All those horrid laughs surrounding him
Pushed around along the edge
He finds solace in fiction

Lonely is girl in the bathroom
She stares at the toilet, with a pencil
She glances briefly at the reflection
Once it was lithe, something not thought about
All had changed, and now…
Disgusted, a look painted across her face
Red bumps and rolling fat wash across
Genes are not given fairly

Lonely is the bridesmaid at the wedding
She sees the happiness, unfound
Never to catch a bouquet
All her friends have what she is seeking
Hope is aging, youth is nearing an end
Wrinkles form with every fail attempt
Searching through blindness, comes no man
The right one never arrives

All their lives have been contrived
From a sad book of repertoire
Everything, it planned to fail
Peace within oneself is far
Deep loathing hurts them all
Anger surrounds their heart
If ever the chance were to come by
What esteem do they have to fight for it?