On a Street with a Fountain, Lives are being Lost

Water running, dripping
Like life, falling, awakening calls
Fancy footwork, stone work
Fountains, in streets
Cobbled, named, strange beliefs
He stands by, watching
Throwing pennies, and listening
To the splashing of life
And calling of lies
His tears falter as the wind
Brings lost voices to his
Ears which ear the world laughing
He's remembered by little
Used to ring the bells
Sounding like calling, wailing
and wanting
Standing lonely, vacant, and weary
No longer living
Only barely existing, dreaming
No not even, for dreaming is for the living
Merely watching replays of life and
Love still loved but lost
His bells sound like cries
His looks, looking far
Wandering, desperate, depressed
Wishing life never ended
This is how he looks to feel
Watching life pass by his
Empty heart and if
It isn't how he's feeling
It's how I certainly am...